


Saving Angel

by Roarking97



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Needs Help, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Angst and Feels, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Damian Wayne Feels, Drug Use, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jason Todd Has Issues, MariBat, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Multi, Multiple Personalities, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Damian Wayne, Self-Indulgent, Tim Drake Gets a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25192231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roarking97/pseuds/Roarking97
Summary: Hawkmoth has been defeated, hooray. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, aka Ladybug, should be thrilled to finally feel again. However, after Chat Noir reveals himself to be Adrien Agreste, Ladybug refuses to reveal herself in order to maintain the balance being the Guardian provides. Once Adrien starts to become emotionally unhinged, he recalls the one person who always saw the best in him, his Princess. He uses, however, emotionally damaging tactics to keep Marinette at his side instead of seeking proper help. Adrien refuses to let Marinette leave him, but also begins a playboy type personality with a host of rotating women. Could a chance meeting with Damian Wayne in Gotham City save Marinette from this "friendship" before she completely breaks down?I am really sorry about this summary but I hope the actual work makes up for it! Thanks for understanding!
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Batfamily Members & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Dick Grayson, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Jason Todd, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 274
Kudos: 788





	1. The Charity Gala (Damian POV)

Damian Wayne would say he was indifferent to charity galas. The money raised and matched by his family would do the Gotham community good, but having to be the presentable blood son of Bruce Wayne was tiring. His brothers did a far better job at socializing-even Drake could carry on conversations with business colleagues. _I suppose being Co-CEO would help with that_. Damian sighed. From his vantage point near one of four sets of French doors leading to the wrap around balcony, Damian could make out his other two brothers, Grayson and Todd entertaining the socialites of the community. _No doubt being ~~charming~~ idiots like always_. Damian decided he’s had enough of all the people, _too many people_ , and slips out the French doors closest to him. He pressed his back to the doors and inhales the cool night air sharply and exhales slowly, feeling the tension ease from his shoulders.

“Needed to get away, too, yes?” A ~~delightfully~~ light French accented voice carries over to Damian’s ears. He startled and glances over to the left and sees a young petite woman looking over at him with a shy smile. Damian straightens his jacket and tie and simply nods at her. She smiles a bit brighter and turns to face the Wayne Gardens. Damian watches her as she tilts her head upwards and closes her eyes and allows the cool breeze to play with a few tendrils of midnight colored hair. Her fair skin almost glowing in the moonlight. That shy smile still gracing her features, making her look ethereal. Damian shakes his head fast and looks away. _Ethereal? Seriously??_ Damian glances back over and finds she is gazing at him with a strange look in her eyes, almost like she is looking for permission to speak again or for him to start a conversation. But Damian can barely look away from her eyes, her eyes are possibly the most beautiful blue he’s ever seen, and her dark eyelashes seem to enhance them somehow. _Bluebell_ , his mind supplies. _Her eyes are the colors of bluebells_.

He scans over her face, taking in the smattering of freckles over the bride of her nose and her full pink lips, hoping to possibly recognize her enough to recall a name, any name, surely he could remember a name? He knows all the invited guests who agreed to come tonight, Damian had to be able to sell the charities in order to raise money and that meant being able to provide information about any interest. But his mind was drawing a blank. Perhaps she is a plus one to a guest? He didn’t really bother with the plus ones, they often were there for a good time and a good time only. Not necessarily caring for the causes. The young woman sighs and returns to looking at the Gardens.

“Do you suppose the Wayne’s enjoy these things? These galas, I mean. I understand they have one twice a year, yes? A Christmas gala and a Spring Gala. I can only imagine these gardens lit up for Christmas. That would be a sight to behold,” she says again in the light French accent, “wouldn’t you agree Monsieur...” she trails off.

“Damian,” he provides, a little baffled. _She doesn’t recognize a Wayne when she’s four feet from one?? This is very interesting_ , “and I would agree that would be an amazing thing to see.”

She smiles at him again, and his breath gets caught in his throat and chest. _An Angel; she looks like an Angel_ , with the moon casting its light onto her and her smile makes Damian feel things he didn’t know he could feel. It leaves him feeling slightly disoriented.

“And what is your name, Miss?” He questions. He needs to know this Angel’s name, and it’s driving him crazy that he can’t seem to recognize her from the hordes of people entering his home. He stiffens in frustration and studies her once more. Her gown is a soft blush color and flows down from her waist while the top is a fitted piece with intricate cherry blossom embroidery, with an interesting looping design on one side. Surely he could remember seeing her at some point during the evening, so why can’t he?

She opens her mouth to answer him, but her phone starts ringing. She pauses and pulls out the cell, stiffens at the name and gives Damian a small, nervous smile. In French she asks, “ ** _Do you understand French?_** ” Damian keeps his face neutral and responds with a “what?” that he’s heard from Todd usually when Drake is going on and on during his caffeine fueled rants. She nods and answers the call.

“ ** _H-hello?_** ” She sounds...scared. Not at all the voice from before. She exhales slowly and then says, “ ** _No, Adrien, I haven’t left yet. N-no, I’ll come to y_** ”- she flinches and Damian can hear a male voice on the other end, this Adrien person. He goes through his mental list of guests again, he knows of three ‘Adrien’s and only one of them is French. Adrien Agreste. Model for his father’s brand until recently. He had to take over the company because his father was put in prison for felony tax evasion, or something. The poor fool of a son was left to pick up the pieces.

“ ** _Yes, okay, I’ll wait where I am._** ” Her shoulders slumped in defeat and with a shaking hand placed her phone back into her clutch. She closes her bluebell eyes and takes a moment to simply breathe. When she opens her eyes again, and looks at Damian, there is a sadness that wasn’t there before the phone call.

“I’m sorry about that, seems I’ll be leaving in the next few min-“

“ ** _Marinette, I am ready to leave. Now._** ” Came a voice from behind Damian, along with the strong smell of liquor. _So her name is Marinette, very fitting for an Angel_. Damian mentally chastises himself for thinking that. He doesn’t know this woman and he should not be thinking of her in that way, or in any way actually. Marinette flinches at the name but manages to give Damian a small but shaky smile. She moves to walk past him but in that moment, he decides that maybe he could afford to think of Marinette- _of his Angel_ -in such a way. Damian turns and catches her hand and brings it up to his lips for a light and brief kiss. Marinette widens her eyes in panic and glances over to Agreste, gauging his reaction. She sees him not exactly paying attention, keeping his eyes fixed on his phone with a smirk on his lips and a raised brow. She glances back at Damian. With a slight bow of her head in acknowledgement, she murmurs, “It was a pleasure talking with you Monsieur Damian.”

“You as well, Miss Marinette.” He replies back with a small smile of his own. Color rushes to her face in a very attractive blush, making her freckles stand out. She turns to Agreste and makes her way over to him, but glances over her should to look at Damian once more. Her eyes seem to sparkle in the moonlight with an emotion he has yet to see in her to Damian. Is that...hope he sees? He smiles once more at Marinette, his Angel, and she gives a timid smile in response.

That is when Agreste grabs her rather roughly by the wrist and begins to drag her through the doors. “ ** _Now Marinette, I want to leave now_**.” He practically growls the last word and Marinette visibly winces at his grip. Damian frowns and opens his mouth to say something but the look his Angel sends him is pleading, pleading for him to not say anything. So Marinette is used to this kind of behavior, that thought is rather unsettling and it leaves a bitter taste in the back of Damian’s throat. He gives a single nod, but his face remains stoic as his frown deepens. Once Agreste finally drags Marinette inside and toward the front doors does Damian move to enter in order to talk to Drake, he needs to make sure his Angel is safe tonight so he needs Drake to do what Drake does best, _being annoyingly nosy and tech savvy_ , to let Damian know where Agreste and Marinette at staying while in Gotham.

With one last glance at the sky behind him, Damian registers that it will soon be pouring rain. “Tch, patrol is going to be rough.” 


	2. Before the Gala (Marinette POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A better understanding of why Marinette acts scared of Adrien in the first chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Ref to drug and alcohol abuse. Emotional manipulation/abuse. Light-Moderate physical abuse. (triggers mainly at the end, but if you see it else where, just let me know!)

_ Two Days before Wayne Family Spring Gala _

Marinette sighed as she made her way up to the hotel room she was sharing with Adrien, her “best friend”. She couldn’t believe her ~~bad~~ luck when Adrien told her he was also invited to the Wayne Gala two weeks ago. He then immediately ~~told~~ tried to convince Marinette to not accept the invite and to simply go as his plus one.

_“But Adrien,_ MDC _was invited to this event, it would be really important for me and my business for me to go and represent my brand,” she had explained._

_“Ah, ah, ahh Prrrrincess, it would mean so much more to me if you came as my plus one. Besides, the_ Gabriel _brand is so much larger than_ MDC _, so I’m sure you can make a lot more headway with the business folk as my guest rather than on your own, don’t you agree?” Adrien’s glassy and bloodshot green eyes lingered slightly above Marinette’s head. He hadn’t looked Marinette in the eyes since his Miraculous was rescinded back to the Guardian-back to her; but he doesn’t need to know that. (If his tantrum after the fact was any indication)._

_“Um, no Adri”- she was cut off._

_“Not my name right now.”_

_“What?” But Marinette knew what he meant, she always knew what he meant._

_“C’mon, Prrrrincess. Say. My. Name.” he demanded._

_“Chat Noir…” she murmured in defeat, trying to hold back the bile that was slowly making its way up her throat._

_“Pawsome, Prrrincess. Now, you should really go to that pawty as Adrien’s plus one. He would be purrrty thankful to have such a great friend by his side, no? Plus you could wear one of your eye-CHATching designs and purrrmote yourself that way! It’ll be a win-win situation! I’m sure he’ll even give some money to use for donations to any charity you want!” ~~Chat~~ Adrien said, with that ~~annoyingly~~ ~~smug~~ ~~shit-eating~~ smile on his face. _

_Marinette sighed and held out her hand. “Okay, give me the invite so I can send my regards and maybe a check-of my own money, Chat-and then when_ Adrien _gets back we can discuss me being his plus one.”_

_“Oh, no worries, Prrrrincess! I’m pretty sure Adrien already took care of that invite! He and I just had this feline you’d see it our way,” he said, and with a wink and a kiss on the forehead, he was out the door._

Marinette grumbled under her breath while pressing the hotel room key to the lock. Opening the door, she found Adrien still lying in bed, face down into the pillows. She huffed and went to her bed and pulled out her laptop.

Opening the browser, Marinette continued her search for a brick and mortar for her business, _MDC_. She was hoping to get a place like her parents, a store front on the main level with an apartment above. She knew the odds of that were slim, though. She was hoping to find a place nearby, actually. Apparently Penny Rolling, manager and wife of Jagged Stone was from Gotham and living here would be a great way to keep up with his busy schedule; as they already have a pent house in the upper-midtown area. After all, any place Marinette ended up choosing, in Gotham or anywhere else, the Stone-Rollings will end up buying a place there, too. So, with the brick and mortar in Gotham, a place where they already have a home, it would be so much easier.

After roughly another forty-five minutes of continuous searching, she’s narrowed the listings down to three places, two of which are roughly the same concept as her parents! She emailed the realtors for the places and scheduled meetings and tours for the day after the Gala; hopefully Adrien won’t be too hungover to be a problem. Marinette chewed on her bottom lip and glanced over at her one time best friend and partner. Still sleeping, but now his face was toward Marinette. His face was twisted up and his lips were pulled into a frown. _A nightmare_ , she mused.

Checking the time, a quarter to 1:00 pm, Marinette got up and opened the curtains to the balcony doors and let the pale light of Gotham seep into the room. Adrien groaned and rolled off the bed. Marinette plastered on a small smile and went over to him.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she tried to be the _good friend_ Adrien wants her to be. It was always hard to tell what mood he’ll be in when he first wakes up. It is basically a shot in the dark if he’ll be pissy, or cuddly, or depressed, or just plain dissociative.

“Shut up, Marinette. My head is killing me this morning,” he growled.

_Ah, so pissy then, this time. I can work with that._ Marinette huffed and walked over to one of the closets in the room. Opening and then pulling out some of Adrien’s clothes, she laid them out onto the bed.

“You need to eat, Adrien. I don’t even know what time you came back last night, so who knows when the last time you had anything in your system besides Oxy or whiskey.” _Or any other drug you do but refuse to talk to me about._

“Whatever, Marinette. You’re not my guardian. You’re my friend, so act like it.” Adrien got up and stumbled to the bathroom and slammed the door, making Marinette jump. After a few minutes, the toilet flushed and then the sound of the shower starting filled the air.

Marinette groaned softly and rubbed her face with both hands. With a quick glance to the closed bathroom door, she walked back to her laptop and opened it back up. Marinette scrolled the mouse to “Banque De France”, her financial institution for both _MDC_ and for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Opening her _MDC_ account, she is pleasantly surprised that not only have Jagged and Penny’s latest deposits gone through, but also Clara Nightingale’s deposit and _Style Queen_ ’s from her monthly consultations. Marinette hums, she should tell Audrey that she will soon be merely a train ride away.

Just as she was about to check her personal bank account, the water shuts off in the bathroom. Marinette quickly logs out of her accounts and shuts the computer down, just as Adrien enters the room.

“So, Mari, what would you like to do today? I, personally, don’t have any plans until much later tonight, so maybe you would like to go sightseeing? Or maybe we could go find a bakery and try American pastries and compare them to the ones your parents make! I doubt they’ll measure up-hey, get it, a baking pun, but you never know!” And there it is, the guilt from him and his ~~aggravating~~ need to make it up to Marinette, for being ~~an~~ ~~ass~~ rude before his shower.

Marinette sighs, she is really getting tired of the emotional whiplash Adrien provides.

“I don’t know Adrien, maybe we should go get some lunch? You still haven’t eaten and”- Adrien cuts her off with a sharp laugh. He ~~stalks~~ walks over to her bed and ~~looms~~ stares down at Marinette.

“You are my friend: not Gorilla, not Nathalie, not my **Father** , stop trying to take care of me when I don’t need it. It’s annoying and suffocating.” Adrien sneers down at her before turning around walks to the exit. “I’m going to go out and explore, **friend** , care to join me?”

Marinette can only stare at his retreating figure. _I need to talk to someone for him, he clearly isn’t doing okay._ She’ll give him today; she’ll bring up getting help tonight. Marinette stands up, grabs her purse and her cell, and follows behind Adrien.

\---~~~---

It is close to three in the morning when Adrien finally comes back from…where ever he went. He is stumbling and keeps pitching forward and to the left, but somehow, he remains standing.

“Adrien, we should talk, yea?” Marinette speaks from her bed and Adrien wobbles on one foot, trying to remove one of his shoes.

“Suuuuuure, Maaaaaaarrrrriiiiii,” he drawls out. He hiccups once, then face plants onto the bed, head buried under the pillows in seconds.

“Adrien, I think we should call Amelie and Felix. I think you could use some family, our **friendship** clearly isn’t doing you good.” Marinette begins softly.

Adrien slowly raises his head, and unlike all the times before, looks directly into her eyes. His eyes, glossy and full of malice, bore into her for what feels like an eternity.

“What,” he growls, “do you mean our friendship isn’t helping me? Are you joking Marinette, because that isn’t fucking funny?”

“No, Adrien, I’m not joking. You aren’t taking care of yourself, and when I try to take care of you, I get snapped at and told that I am only a **friend**. So, I think it’s time we call”- she is cut off by the sudden and alarmingly precise movement of Adrien.

“Don’t think Marinette. Don’t. Fucking. Think. You have no idea what I need, the way I cope with what my father did me is none of your fucking concern, alright?” He reaches her bed and grabs her by the ankles and squeezes so hard, she’s sure they’ll bruise. He yanks her to him and hoists her up by both ankles so she’s upside down.

“Don’t call anyone for me, don’t look into shrinks, don’t do anything.” He drops her and Marinette crumples to the ground. She turns and stares up at her long-ago partner, barely recognizing him. This is not her Chat Noir, and this is certainly not her **friend.**

“If you call anyone, Marinette, I swear to God I’ll hurt myself. Do you want that on you? Do you?” He is pointing a finger down at her, anger and hatred pouring out of him, at her. Marinette trembles on the ground. “If you call anyone, you’re no better than my father, abandoning me when I need you most.”

And with those final words, Adrien storms out of the hotel room, leaving behind a shaking and crying Marinette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the positive reaction to the first chapter! Seeing the kudos and comments left me smiling for days! I have def fallen down the MariBat hole, I have so many ideas for MariBat fics, its crazy! 
> 
> Please, if you have any questions, feel free to ask and I will do my best to answer! 
> 
> Again, thanks for all the positivity! -Roarking :)


	3. The Hours Before the Gala (Marinette POV/Adrien POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the fight, as well as a look into Adrien's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Toxic relationship attributes and drug and alcohol abuse. 
> 
> If any other warnings need to be added, just let me know! Thanks!

Marinette stares at her newly altered shoes, the pale pink ribbons shimmer slightly in the setting sun. She had to add them, so she could hide the bruises around her ankles by wrapping the ribbons up her legs like ballerina shoes. Marinette glances at the clock on the wall of her new hotel room, and dimly realizes it has been almost fifteen hours since she saw Adrien storm out; after that fight with him the night before, she just couldn’t stay there anymore.

_I just have to make it through tonight, he leaves tomorrow and then I can tour those shops and apartments. Just one more night._

The feeling of guilt as his words from last night, or, she guesses, early this morning wash over her brain. Abandon him? Was she really doing that? Marinette chews on her bottom lip and her eyebrows pucker. She stands and walks to the windows to stare out into the city. She’s been doing that a lot, ever since she came back from that one fabric store at the corner.

With a long, drawn out sigh, Marinette goes over to her cell phone, contemplating calling Adrien and apologizing for making him so upset.

There’s a banging at the door.

“Mari? Mari, it’s me. Look, I am so sorry about last night. I promise I didn’t mean to,” Adrien’s muffled voice filters through the hotel room door.

She stands and walks over to the door, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. She leans against the door and speaks to Adrien, against her better judgement, and lets her frustrations out.

“Didn’t mean to what, Adrien? To come back to the room drunk? Or yell at me when all I want is to help you? Or what about when you dragged me by my ankles and dropped me onto the floor, huh?” At the sharp intake of breath at the other side, Marinette guesses Adrien might’ve forgotten about that last part.

“All of it, Mari. I didn’t mean any of it. Can I come in? We still have an hour and a half before we need to be at that stupid Gala. Please? We can talk and I promise I’ll try my best to listen,” and dammit, if Adrien doesn’t sound so sincere.

Marinette opens the door and Adrien pulls her into a tight hug. With her face pressed against his chest, she can barely hear the words he’s saying over her; but she does.

“I’ll be better, please don’t leave, please? I’ll do better, I’ll make you proud, okay? Please, don’t leave, don’t leave me alone, please, please, please… I’m so alone…” and with those words, the guilt in Marinette’s chest swirls until it is all consuming, nearly choking her with its heavy presence.

Marinette pulls back and glances up at him; she doesn’t see tears, just an emotionless mask of a broken boy.

“I’m so sorry, Adrien,” Marinette whispers, “I’ll try to be more understanding of your needs, okay? Could you, in return, try not to scare me like you did last night?”

Adrien moves his head, like he’s thinking of her request. Making a noncommittal noise in his throat, he walks into the room.

“Just don’t push me over the edge like that again, Mari. When I got back into the room this afternoon and you weren’t there, I nearly went crazy,” he laughs once without humor. “But, I called down to the front desk and they told me you simply got another room. So I cancelled our other one, so we can share again, isn’t that great?” He turns, and his green eyes are so flat as they stare above her own eyes.

And all at once, the guilt that was threatening to choke Marinette, washes over her entire being as is changes into a sick sense of dread; nearly drowning her in its wake.

Adrien claps once, making her jump. “One of the hotel staff should be bringing my luggage to our new room in the next few minutes. Y’know, it was really rude of you to change rooms, now the hotel staff have to do extra work because of you. The Marinette I know wouldn’t have done that.” Adrien plops down onto the couch, and begins flipping through the T.V. channels so fast, she isn’t sure if he is even seeing the shows as they pass.

Marinette opens and closes her mouth a few times. The way Adrien is acting makes her feel like she did in collége and lycée; suppressed and under Lila’s thumb. Not like the CEO and sole designer of an up-and-coming fashion house.

She tried to swallow the guilt and the dread that had a firm grip on her throat. She opened her mouth, but all that came out with a squeak.

“Well, go get ready Mari, we don’t want to be late,” Adrien stood up and walked to the door, opened it and grabbed his bags from the staff member. “Tip the guy, won’t you, Mari?”

Numbly, Marinette moved to her purse, pulled out a twenty dollar bill and gave it to the man. Turning back around, she saw Adrien walk into the bathroom and close the door behind him.

_I’m such an idiot. It’ll never be just one more night, not with Adrien._

\---~~~---

Adrien stares at his reflection in the mirror. The dark purple bags under his eyes emphasizing the paleness of his face. The dark red hickeys and bite marks trailing down his neck, going beneath the collar of his shirt. He remembers when the marks first started showing up on his skin after nights of filling the void four months ago, Marinette had been so worried. Now, they’re almost a permanent fixture on his skin, and she doesn’t even bat an eyelash at them.

With shaking hands, he reaches into the front left pocket of his trousers. Pulling the pill bottle out and popping two of the Oxys into his mouth, and downs them with the whiskey in his front shirt pocket flask.

As he waits for the drugs and alcohol to numb him, he can vaguely hear and see the scenes that have haunted him for the past six months.

_“What about your son? What about Adrien?” Adrien, as Chat Noir, had desperately tried to get his father to at least acknowledge that what he was doing was going to damage him. But, amends could be made! Things could be fixed! Just like what His Lady does! Fix it, like it was never broken at all!_

_“My son? My son,_ Chat Noir _, is possibly the greatest disappointment I have ever created. Too emotional, too kind, too much like his damn mother!” the words ripped into his chest, hollowing him out._

_“Wha, what? I thought you loved him? I thought you loved his mother?” Chat Noir reasoned, but he knew what was about to be said, he knew._

_“When I get my wish, and I will get my wish, I’ll change everything! I’ll make sure Emilié never leaves me for Adrien; she can't leave if there is no Adrien to begin with! It is simple! No Adrien, no more problems!” His father, no-_ Hawkmoth _began to laugh hysterically. And something inside Adrien snapped. Whatever hope of having his family, even just him and his father, shattered into a million tiny pieces, sinking deep down into the pit in his stomach._

_With a glance down at the ground, he reached down and touched the metal flooring._

_“Cataclysm,” and watched the coffin of his mother fall, along with the man that never should have been his father, into the darkness._

As the fog rolls into his brain and covers up the rest of the memories of that day, Adrien takes a shaky breath. His eyes are glazed over, and glassy, but he does not cry. Does not cry for a man who hated him. And, he does not cry for his mother, he spent a majority of collége and lycée mourning her.

Yet, as he wills himself to stay in the protected state of numbness, the chilling feeling in his veins demands attention. It’s too cold, just like the house he grew up in. Just like ~~father~~ Gabriel. Just like Nathalie.

Just like himself.

With a desperation, he bangs open the door and searches the room for Marinette; the only source of warmth and light in his cold and dark world.

“Adrien?” she calls from beside the door. Marinette is in the process of fixing her hair for the Gala. She’s such a good friend, agreeing to be his plus one.

_Too good of a friend for you,_ his mind whispers, _you’re holding her back, just like you did with **him.**_

With a sharp shake of his head, Adrien strides over and pulls Marinette into a hug.

“You’re my best friend, Marinette. Don’t ever doubt that,” he says into her hair.

Marinette pats his back, but makes no sound. And, for Adrien, that is enough to keep the cold at bay for now.

_I just hope it’s enough for the rest of the night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reactions to the last chapter! We're almost the 1000 hits on this work and I am so happy! 
> 
> :)))))))-Roarking


	4. The Charity Gala (Marinette POV/Adrien POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parts of the Charity Gala in Marinette's and Adrien's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Drug and alcohol abuse. Implied sexual content. 
> 
> As always, if you feel more warnings need to be added, let me know! 
> 
> Also, this is my longest chapter so far, due to the switching perspectives! Does it work or is it kind of messy?

Marinette walks around the perimeter of the Wayne Family Gala, anxiously scanning the crowd for Adrien. She knows he’s been drinking the champagne, way too much of it. She and him were talking for nearly an hour and it almost felt like old times, despite the fact that Adrien was downing champagne every 15 minutes. She turned to place the only champagne glass down on a nearby tray, and when Marinette turned to ask Adrien a question, he was walking away.

That was 30 minutes ago. She huffs and pulls her phone out for the nth time and she finally has a message from Adrien.

**Adrien A.: Mari, don’t worry-just ran into an old “friend” ;) if you know what I mean. You shouldn’t hover, go mingle! Want me to send you some money to donate?**

Marinette squeezes her phone in her hand, making the device groan underneath her fingers. She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and begins walking to the donation tables in the next room over, after sending back a “ **K.** ” to Adrien.

As she gazes down the list of possible charities to donate to, she can’t help but feel that tiny seed of pride that she is even capable of making a, frankly, sizable donation from her brand. After all, being Jagged Stone’s sole designer for eight years, as well as Clara Nightingale’s sole designer for six years, and then on top of those two, becoming a _Style Queen_ consultant and columnist two years ago. Safe to say, with those three providing a steady stream of income to not only her brand, but to Marinette herself, she is more than able to make such a donation.

_Not even counting the four rotating quarterly commission spaces for_ MDC.

Marinette smiles as she finds one of the only art-based charities on the list. There were several for medical research, and for STEM programs, and animal welfare campaigns. However, one caught her eye: The _DaGW Art Program_ , which provides children from rougher backgrounds to channel their negativity into creative and safe ways.

It is simply perfect, and, appears that there aren’t so many donors for this one in particular. Marinette opens her clutch and pulls out her _MDC Official_ checkbook and proceeds to fill the check out.

$8,000 later, and Marinette is smiling to herself because for once, she feels like she is doing something good as **her** , rather than as Ladybug. It’s a small victory, but she’ll revel in it for as long as she can.

And with that, Marinette makes her way to back to the crowds, once again doing a brief glance around for Adrien. When she doesn’t spot him, she walks up to a beautiful red-head in a wheel chair and strikes up a conversation.

\---~~~---

Adrien groans as the blonde woman on her knees in front of him licks him clean. Making quick work of his fly, button, and belt she smiles up at him.

“Wow,” he breathes, “that was great, uh,” he clears his throat.

The blonde rolls her eyes. “Annie,” she states.

“Right, Annie. Thanks for that, really.” Adrien flashes _Annie_ his standard model smile, not meeting her eyes. He and Annie are currently in one of the many bathrooms in the house. Being in such a large place, even filled with people, made Adrien’s skin crawl. He needed something, or someone, to distract himself from the impending panic.

So, when lovely _Annie_ beckoned him over when Marinette wasn’t looking, Adrien practically dove at the chance for an escape.

“Sure thing,” she purrs at him. Annie trails her fingers up his chest and then entwines her fingers into his blond hair.

He stiffens, _her fingers are so cold. I can’t feel the cold right now. Not here, not right now._

Adrien grabs her wrist and pushes her hand away.

“I should really go find my friend, it’s been,” he glances at his watch and his eyes nearly pop out, “wow, it’s been almost two and a half hours since I saw her last and”- Annie cuts him off.

“You’re here with a date?” her ~~cold~~ brown eyes staring at his face. He doesn’t make eye contact.

“Technically? I mean,” Adrien coughs, the cold suddenly pushing down onto his chest, making it hard to breathe. He reaches into his pockets for his flask of whiskey and his pills.

He pops in three pills and downs a third of the contents in the flask.

“Mari is just a really great friend.”

Annie smirks at him, reaches into his pocket and- _cold! Cold, cold! Get away get away!_ \- pulls his cell phone out and adds her contact and drop dials herself.

“Well, if you need some company later on, one of my friends and I would be happy to help you later.” She slips the phone back into his pocket, and as the drugs and alcohol roll an even thicker fog than the previous champagnes hours ago into his head and heart, he smiles.

“I just might take you up on that offer, Annie.”

\---~~~---

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Barbara Gordon, the red-head in the wheelchair says, eyes serious. “Paris, France was essentially taken ‘emotionally hostage’ nearly nine years ago by a magical terrorist, and the situation wasn’t even resolved until six months ago? You have to be kidding me!”

Marinette sighs, and then groans, and then rubs her temples.

“I don’t blame you for not believing me, I do sound kind of crazy,” Marinette and Barbara both laugh a little, “but I do have a few theories as to why no one outside the Parisian city limits knows about it. First, Mayor Bourgeois limited almost all news stations from releasing, or leaking, any information about akumas, deaths, heroes”-

“Deaths? I thought you said it was only emotional distress?” Barbara cuts in.

“I’m getting there! Second, the Cure, one of Ladybug’s powers, reverts all damage done during an akuma battle, including death. The Eiffel Tower was destroyed a lot, and I mean a lot a lot. But with the Cure, everything goes back to quote unquote normal.” Marinette takes a deep breath, “you know what, I’m going to give you my card with my emails on it, and we can meet up later this following week and I can show you footage on my computer. Since I am from Paris, and my once best friend ran a blog dedicated to the stuff, I can probably show you some of it without any repercussions.”

Barbara seems satisfied with that answer and pockets the card without really looking. Barbara pulls her phone out and winces.

“Shoot, I’m sorry, but my dad has been looking for me and I guess I just got caught up in our conversation that I missed his messages. If you’ll excuse me,” she starts to roll away after shaking Marinette’s hand.

Marinette hums a little, talking with Barbara was a great way to pass the time. Even if the conversation ended up about the Hawkmoth situation, that was kind of draining. Marinette decides to go out onto one of the balconies and take a breather.

Once outside, Marinette closes her eyes, and focuses her energy inward.

_I haven’t talked to the kwamis since before the trip started. Maybe just a quick hello…_

Just as Marinette is about to reach the barrier in her subconscious that houses the kwamis, the balcony doors open, and a ~~handsome~~ young man steps out and leans against the doors. She contemplates saying nothing, but decides to just go for it.

“Needed to get away, too, yes?” she says softly. Something in his stance reminds Marinette of an animal, not afraid to strike when cornered or threatened. She’s smiling, and when he acknowledges her with a nod, Marinette is satisfied and goes to gaze at the gardens. She can feel his eyes on her, and if she is being honest, it is a little unnerving.

She glances at him and he’s shaking his head. His tan skin looks so warm and his hair so dark, like richest dark chocolate, almost black, at her parents’ bakery. _He has a nice face_ , she muses. Strong jaw and nice cheekbones and _oh my, am I really finding him attractive? I haven’t found anyone attractive in three years? Not since Luka_ ; and doesn’t that thought leave a bitter taste in her mouth. He flicks his eyes over to her and if her breath doesn’t stop on the way to her lungs.

They’re green. A dark, jade green that is so different from Adrien’s it is almost impossible to look away. They’re so sharp and there is so much emotion behind them, like miniscule storms are behind them. _They suit him, his eyes_. Framed perfectly with dark lashes.

_And now I haven’t said anything, and neither has he, but he’s still looking at me, and now I’m uncomfortable, and then he’ll get uncomfortable and then it’ll be a disaster!_

Marinette sighs, deciding to make a least a little small talk with the handsome stranger.

“Do you suppose the Wayne’s enjoy these things? These galas, I mean. I understand they have one twice a year, yes? A Christmas gala and a Spring Gala. I can only imagine these gardens lit up for Christmas. That would be a sight to behold,” she pauses, flicking her eyes back over at the man standing and, _wow_ , still staring, “wouldn’t you agree Monsieur...”

She lets the end of the sentence hang in the air for a moment.

“Damian,” he says, blinking a few times and his voice is so rich and deep, Marinette isn’t sure how she isn’t a melted puddle on the floor, “and I would agree that would be an amazing thing to see.”

Marinette smiles at him, _at Damian_. _Yes, Damian is quite attractive and I’m not sure I know what that means for me._

\---~~~---

As Adrien stares out in the crowd, his vision is slightly blurry and he’s having trouble focusing.

Marinette isn’t in here, so maybe she went to look at the charity options. Adrien makes his way walking to the side room with all the charities. As he’s ~~stumbling~~ walking over, he nearly collides with a much larger frame.

“Oh, I’m sorry man, I wasn’t paying attention. You okay?” The voice speaking to Adrien is low and gruff, and with a quick glance at the face Adrien can confirm that the face matches the voice. Only one word could describe that face, dangerous. And with that tuft of white hair in a sea of black locks, Adrien wants to get as far away as possible.

With a nod, he’s off to find Marinette. He needs to leave this place. Even with the _activities_ earlier and the alcohol and the pills clouding his mind, the cold is still trying to make its way to the forefront of Adrien’s mind.

As he enters the charity room, he does a quick sweep with his eyes. No Marinette here either. Adrien’s lips push out into a grimace as the creeping cold feeling intensifies.

He pulls out his phone, goes to the contact **Prrrincess** and dials her.

“ ** _Mari? Mari, tell me you haven’t left yet. Please, please tell me you’re still at this damn party, in this damn house and that you haven’t left me all alone.”_ **Adrien speaks in rapid French, as he really doesn’t want eavesdroppers right now.

He breathes a sigh of relief when she answers, but when she offers to come to him, his eye twitches. _He’s not one who needs rescuing, Mari’s all alone right now! ~~Like me.~~_

**_“No, stay right there. I’m on my way. I mean it, Mari. Stay right there.”_** He cuts her off from saying anything else and hangs up. Glancing at his messages, he is pleasantly surprised to see… Amy? _Yea, that sounds almost right_. Amy has sent Adrien a picture of her and her friend with the caption ‘hope to see you soon;)’.

After taking a deep breath, he moves to find ~~his~~ ~~Princess~~ Marinette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness! Y'all are making me so happy with the amount of feedback I am getting on my first ever fic! Thank you a thousand times!! Y'all are seriously motivating me to keep writing! 
> 
> -Roarking :)


	5. After the Gala (Damian POV/Marinette POV/Adrien POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian after the gala and before patrol. Marinette after the gala. Adrien after the gala. 
> 
> FINISHED WITH THE GALA ARC!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Drug and Alcohol abuse. Implied sexual content. 
> 
> Another longer chapter due to multiple POVs!! Will probably be the new norm! I really hope thats okay!!
> 
> I had to repost this chapter! I'm not sure what happened, but it posted before I made my edits!

_I kissed her hand, I actually kissed her hand. And she blushed, so did that mean she liked it? Could she like me? I am not used to these kind of feelings, I mean there was that brief stint with Raven when I started working with the Titans but that never went anywhere…maybe I should talk to Dick? He’s cha..char…_

Damian shakes his head to clear away that line of thinking. Grayson would no doubt be of little help in this situation. It took him years to confess to Kori. Not that Damian is confessing anything, but the gist is there.

Damian glanced down at his watch: 10:37 pm, and patrol doesn’t start until 11:25 pm. With a huff, Damian makes his way to his dressing room down in the Batcave to start getting ready. He has a ritual before every patrol. Sharpen katanas, breathing exercise, light yoga to stretch the muscles, then getting dressed in the _Robin_ suit. All in all takes roughly forty minutes to complete and to have a few minutes to spare.

Just as Damian picks up the first katana and sharpening stone, he hears Drake…squeal? He shrugs, whatever has Drake so excited can’t have anything to do with Damian.

Now the process can begin.

“Wāḥid,” Damian counts aloud as the stone glides across the blade.

“Iṯnān,” he inhales and exhales slowly, mindful of the sharp edge, “ṯālaṯa,” as he moves his arm with the stone, Marinette’s eyes are suddenly in his mind. Those eyes were so incredibly blue, and her beautiful pale skin and midnight hair, _yes, she is an Angel. And Angels do not mix well with Demons._

He moves the stone over the blade a few more times, then, holds it up to inspect. He frowns and furrows his brows.

“Once more,” he takes the stone and mutters, “sitta.” Satisfied, he places the katana down and reaches for the other one. Just as he is about to start the sharpening process again, there is a frantic knocking at his door.

“Demon spawn! Demon spawn! Open up! You are not going to believe this!”

Damian growls and places the unsharpened katana back on its shelf and moves to open the door.

“Yes, Todd?” Damian says lowly.

Jason Todd just grins at him and goes to grab his arm. Damian moves before contact is made.

“Don’t touch, use your words, Todd. Alfred taught you how to do that, right?”

Todd just rolls his eyes at the comment. 

“Yea, yea, yea. Tim wants to talk to you about something with your new Art Program or something. He says it really shouldn’t wait.” Todd begins to walk toward the open space of the Cave.

Damian pauses. It was a gamble to include his Art Program in tonight’s charities, but any little bit of donations count, and with the Wayne Family matching what is made…

_Unless, it raised no money._ Damian’s frown deepens and follows Todd out.

As Damian makes his way to the main room, several voices carry, all talking over one another.

“We never got an RSVP back! We didn’t think they were even coming!”

“Did anyone see them? Talk to them?”

“They have an impressive encryption system on all their accounts, so I can’t find any personal information on them!”

“The cameras! Babs, check the cameras to the charity room! They chose Demon Spawn’s program to donate to!”

“They wrote a personal check!”

“We have their signature!”

And Drake squeals again. Once Damian enters, all eyes are on him.

“Is there a problem with _DaGW_? I knew it was a risk to include a program that new in our Spring Gala, but I suppose I had a hope it would raise some money,” Damian says, feigning disinterest, but his still posture gives him away.

Gordon, Drake, Grayson and even Damian’s father are staring at him. It is Bruce who speaks first.

“Damian, including the family matching, your program will be getting roughly $16,500,” he says in his low grumble of a voice.

Damian raises both eyebrows, “So my program actually managed to grab several donators, right? That’s what that means?”

“Actually,” Drake begins, “there were only three donators.”

“Three?” Now Damian is confused, a feeling he does not like. "Explain." 

“Mr. De La Cruz donated $200 and Mrs. Hammonds donated $50, as she does with every charity,” Grayson began, but before he could continue, Drake spoke up.

“ _MDC_ donated $8,000! They weren’t even supposed to be here, we never got a RSVP back so we assumed the address our sources gave was incorrect, and yet, they were here, and they donated once, to your program!” Drake pauses then looks back to Gordon, “how are we with the cameras?”

Damian didn’t know what to say. Drake and Grayson talk about this _MDC_ a lot. Given the fact that they’re all freaking out seems to mean something.

“I see, if that’s all?” Damian turns around and starts to walk back to his room.

“I found them! Holy crap, I talked with her tonight! Mary, or Marie, or, um…” Gordon trails off, rubbing her forehead.

Damian turns to look at the profile of the young _MDC_ on the screen of the Batcomputer and nearly chokes on his breath.

“Marinette,” he breathes and suddenly every eye is on him, _again_ _._ He clears his throat and wills the color that has suddenly found its way to his cheeks away.

“Baby bird,” Grayson looks like he is about to cry, “did you talk to an actual girl?” He is smiling so wide, _sickening._

“We conversed on the balcony facing the gardens, and then she left with her,” he clears his throat, but the near growls still escapes his throat, “ _boyfriend_. That is all.” Damian turns and ~~quickly~~ walks back to the hall but stops to listen once out of eyeshot.

Todd looks around the room, a slow smile spreading.

“Demon Spawn totally has a crush. So, are we gonna check on her during patrol?”

“Oh, yea,” Grayson says.

“She is currently staying at the Burr Inn and Suites, close to midtown. According to the hotel records, thank you very much hacking skills, she switched from room 1137 to 1023. Both have balconies, so should be an easy check in.” Gordon states.

Damian nods to himself. He didn’t like that Agreste character, so while his family makes fun of him, he’ll actually make sure his Angel is okay. He has a feeling that tonight is going to be rough.

\---~~~---

Marinette groans as she wipes the remains of her mascara away with a warm wash cloth. Her insides feel off balance and her skin flushed with residual embarrassment. He had kissed her hand, so different from the way Chat used to; instead of making her skin crawl, her skin felt like it was singing with a newfound optimism. A hope for a future. Marinette smiles to. herself, touching her hand softly, almost reverently. 

Adrien knocks at the bathroom door, bringing Marinette back to reality. With a sharp shake of her head, she clears those ~~hopeful~~ useless thoughts away. 

_He was just being kind. I am no one special._

“Mari? I’d like to take a shower before my guests come by tonight.” Adrien says through the door.

Guests? Adrien invited people back to ~~her~~ their room? Without even asking her first?

Marinette opens the door and looks up at Adrien’s face. His skin is still flushed from, what she hopes, is just alcohol and his eyes are glazed over.

“You invited people over? At,” she glances at the clock on the wall, “11:15 at night? Without asking me first? This is _our_ room, Adrien. Remember?” She goes to push past him, but her latches his hand on her shoulder. She peers up at him, his green eyes forever avoiding eye contact.

“Careful, Mari. You seem to be pushing some buttons, and we don’t want those buttons being pressed, now do we?”

Marinette would forever deny the sharp spike of fear that went through her body at his words.

“Er, right. Sorry Adrien,” she mumbles. “If it’s alright with you, I’ll probably just spend the time your guests are here on the balcony meditating, okay?”

Adrien beamed at her.

“That is perfect Mars! Why don’t you go ahead out there! Amy and her friend should be here in a second!” Adrien makes his way to the entrance.

Marinette stares at the back of his head.

_…Mars? What the hell is that?_

With a shake of her head, Marinette grabs a blanket and a pair of earbuds to play some music and goes out on to the balcony, unaware of the sound of a lock sliding into place a few minutes after she closes the balcony doors.

\---~~~---

Adrien pushes a hand through his hair and glances behind him as he hears to balcony doors close. Taking his flask out of his pocket, he downs the rest of it while opening the door to Amy and her friend. They both flash ~~fake~~ smiles at him and he gives one in return.

“I am feeling kind of gross from the party tonight, ladies. Care to join me for a quick shower?” Adrien asks while walking toward the bathroom.

“In a minute,” Amy’s friend says. “Annie and I, my name is Clarissa by the way, were wondering if you had anything to drink before we get started?”

_Shit, her name is Annie, not Amy._

Adrien keeps the smile on his face, “of course I do, follow me.”

As they make their way to the small wet bar in the room, Annie walks toward the balcony.

“Are you aware you have a little girl on your balcony?” She wrinkles her nose in contempt as she locks the doors.

“Oh, that’s just Marinette. She’s going to be out there a while, meditating. She tends to get overwhelmed easily,” Adrien made a clicking noise while shaking his head. “She was my guest at the party tonight, she practically begged me to take her, but the poor thing just couldn’t handle it, asked for us to leave roughly after you and I, Annie, had our little fun,” he winks as he pours three fairly full glasses of whiskey. “Don’t pay any mind to her, alright? Tonight is just about us and our fun.”

As he and Annie and Clarissa grab their glasses, Clarissa pulls out a little case.

“Hey, hotshot,” she purrs at him. Adrien raises an eyebrow in response as he downs his entire drink.

Annie takes the case from Clarissa, “ever had LSD before? We think it could make this night magical.” She holds out the case, showing Adrien the contents.

“I can’t say that I have, will you both be taking some, too?” He takes one of the strips and places it on his tongue.

Annie and Clarissa also take some and places them on each other’s tongue. Adrien smirks, all the while feeling queasy.

_I am doing this to escape my mind, everything will be okay._

“Now,” Adrien removes his shirt and starts to undo his pants, “shall we shower?”

\---~~~---

A few blocks away, resting in the shadows, a pale faced man with a perpetual smile and sickly green hairs walks through alleys.

Looking for a new toy.

And when he finds one... he begins to laugh, he’ll make sure they never leave his grasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone leaving comments and kudos and being so invested in this fic! I couldn't believe this story would get over 150 kudos when I first started writing it! And it has almost 1700 hits! I am so grateful for this community! Thank you thank you thank you!! 
> 
> Working hard to get get chapters out! THANK YOU AGAIN!!
> 
> -Roarking :)


	6. Interesting Conversations (Marinette POV/Damian POV/Adrien POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Talking with a kwami and some understanding of Marinette's situation. Robin is teased. The Joker meets Marinette. Adrien has a trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Violence and implied drug use. 
> 
> If any other trigger warnings are needed, let me know! 
> 
> Probably will leave you with more questions than answers. And also a cliffhanger. 
> 
> I'm not sure I'm sorry. Also I wrote almost 3k. Oops?

As Marinette goes through her breathing exercises to focus her energy inward, the cooling air brings a peace she hasn’t felt in several months. With a deep inhale, she pauses.

_It smells like rain._

Marinette frowns, thinking of the time Adrien gave her his umbrella. How she was so foolish to mistake admiration for love. She will never make that mistake again.

She opens her eyes to look up at the night sky, watching as the clouds roll over the city.

The sudden sound of heavy bass from behind her fills her ears. Besides the bass, she can’t hear much else from the room, so she guesses the doors block a lot of noise. But the bass is enough to distract her. Marinette groans and reaches for her earbuds and slipping them into place and starting up her meditation playlist.

The melodic sounds of Jagged Stone fill her ears and grounds her.

As she slips into a trance of deep breathing, she tries to reach for the part in her subconscious where the kwamis are. They have been there since the defeat of Hawkmoth, after releasing their true forms from their physical beings and the ties that bind them to the Miraculous, since Marinette had to use all of their power to undo the damage the butterfly, peacock and, unfortunately, the black cat created.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, sole savior of Paris and Reality, Guardian of the Box of Miracles, and, as of six months ago, the Living Miracle Box. _Temporarily._

She finally reaches the part of herself where the kwamis are, and the gentle voice of Wayzz fill her mind.

_“Hello, Guardian. It has been a few weeks since you have visited us. How are you holding up?”_

Marinette smiles, Wayzz’s calming energy enveloping her like a warm hug.

_“I am doing as well as I can, Wayzz. How are you and the others doing?”_

_“We are well, Guardian. Do you wish to speak with Tikki? I believe she and the others are making progress in terms of contacting the kwami that has taken residence in the Box of Salvation.”_

_“The Box of Salvation? Master Fu never mentioned that during his time with Chat and I, granted it was only a year before he was forced to relinquish Guardianship to me.”_

At the mention of Fu’s name, the calming energy Marinette is currently feeling dims in sadness.

_“I’m so sorry, Wayzz. I know you miss him dearly.”_ Marinette frowns, feeling a tightness in her chest. She will not cry, she will not cry, she will not cry.

_“It is alright, Guardian. It has been seven years; the pain is not as sharp as it once was. Now, the Box of Salvation is similar to the Box of Miracles, er, well- similar to you now. They do not have an item that binds them to this world, but rather one sole person. Within them hold the singular kwami, Null. Null is the Kwami of Deliverance. Essentially, the being that came from the embodiments of Creation and Destruction.”_ Wayzz says pragmatically.

Marinette hums softly in thought.

_“Tikki and Plagg have, what sounds like to me, a child? Is that what you’re telling me?”_

_“Perhaps you should talk to Tikki and Plagg, they will have more information and a better perspective to give.”_ And with that, Wayzz’s voice and energy fade into the background of Marinette’s subconscious. But the calming feeling remains, leaving a gentle smile on her lips.

When she opens her eyes to glance at the time, she sees two figures on the roof across the street.

Even from this distance of roughly a seventy-five feet, Marinette can tell that these men are capital H huge.

The man on the left is wearing a ~~god-awful~~ helmet and well-worn leather jacket. And, using her designer skills of guessing measurements, looks to be 6’ 3” at least and pushing the mid 200 pounds range. Marinette swallows thickly, the sense of unease making her tongue feel useless. She can’t make out the details on his suit underneath, even while squinting her eyes.

She glances at the man next to Helmet Head doesn’t look as bad from what she can see. Slightly smaller in an what seems to be all black or really dark blue suit, he looks to be about 6’1” or 6’2” and maybe low 200s.

_Are these rogues, or are these the vigilantes? And why are they so…large? I stand at only 5’2” and these guys are seriously giants compared to me!_

Marinette does a quick catalogue in her mind of the Gotham ~~heroes~~ vigilantes.

_Batman, Robin, Red Robin, Nightwing…_

As she stares at the man on the right, he waves and smiles at her. She tentatively waves back with a shy smile of her own. She thinks that one is the Nightwing guy.

Helmet Head brings a hand up to the side of his head, nodding along to what Marinette assumes are his teammates. He slaps Nightwing on the shoulder and gestures him to follow.

With one last wave from both Helmet Head and Nightwing, they’re off.

_That was weird. Right? Right. They couldn’t possibly have been looking for me specifically, right?_

Marinette shakes her head and smacks her cheeks lightly.

_Don’t be dumb, Marinette. They just happened to be there. The fact they were standing there, seeming to be watching me means little._

She glances at her phone, and the time says 12:54. She frowns and glances behind her to and through the windows, looking to see if Adrien still has… guests.

She quickly turns her head back around, a furious blush on her face.

_Oh, my Kwami! How is that even possible, let alone comfortable? And the other one? How is she even breathing?_

Marinette shakes her head, hard and fast. She still needs to talk with Tikki and Plagg.

She repositions herself after a few minutes of gentle stretching and goes to close her eyes.

** THUMP **

****

Marinette jumps and her eyes fly open. Crouching in front of her is a man with the most terrifying smile she has ever seen.

“My, my, my, you are almost perfect,” he breathes out, his breath fanning her face.

_…fuck._

\---~~~---

Damian, currently dressed as Robin, sighs as he zip-ties the wrists of a man who was trying to mug a woman walking home from working a late shift at a nearby convenience store. The voices in his ear blending together.

He is focus personified. He will not be distracted. He-

“Nightwing, wanna check on Robin’s lil crush?”

-nearly drops his grappling hook.

“Oh, of course Red Hood! We are in the neighborhood, after all.” Robin can hear the snickers of Nightwing, Red Hood and even Batman, the traitor.

Robin manages to properly shoot his grapple and soars up to the roof Red Robin is currently on. Red Robin is smiling at him, _like a Goddamn idiot._

“Oracle,” Robin sighs, “time?”

Oracle’s voice filters through the laughter, “currently 12:37 am, there are three and a half more hours of patrol.”

“Coming up on the hotel now,” Nightwing singsongs through the communicator.

Red Robin places a hand on his shoulder, offering an apologetic smile. _The bastard._

“Shit, she’s actually outside. And, uh, Robin?” Red Hood’s gravelly voice enters his ear.

“Yes, Hood?”

“You said she left with a boyfriend?”

Robin audibly groans, and Red Robin squeezes his shoulder.

“That is what I said, yes.”

“And was that boyfriend a blond?” Nightwing asks.

“Again, yes. Is something wrong? You’ve seen her, now you may leave before she sees you.” At this point, Robin is two minutes away from snapping Red Robin’s wrist. _I do not need pity._

“Either she is the most chill girlfriend in history,” Hood snorts, “or she is not with this guy.”

Robin frowns and shoves Red Robin’s hand away. “Explain.”

“Dude is having a threesome right now, and your girl is out on the balcony. Earbuds in, eyes closed, and looks to be meditating.”

_She meditates…_ Robin shakes his head, fighting the smile that is threatening to form.

“A threesome? How do you even know that?” Oracles voice practically bursts his eardrums. “I so hope they aren’t actually together! He’s doing that while she’s just on the balcony? What the hell?”

“They left the curtains open and there are definitely three, very naked bodies in the bed farthest from the windows.” Hood states, sounding so nonchalant.

“Uh oh, Hood, she is looking at us. She is one hundred percent looking at us. Should I wave? I’m gonna wave. And smile. Yep, this is happening. Sorry, Robin.”

And, oh, how _very_ sorry he sounds.

“You will be sorry, Nightwing. You too, Hood.” Robin pauses, “does she look okay? She left rather suddenly tonight.”

Red Robin is now staring at him with his mouth open. Robin turns around, giving his back to his brother.

“She looks confused but otherwise”- Hood is cut off by Batman’s voice.

“I just got word from Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. Apparently, the Joker has been spotted roaming the streets after a pretty violent run in with Quinn and Ivy. Don’t know what he is looking for; but stay on the lookout. Nightwing, Hood: I am sending his last known coordinates. Red Robin and Robin, I’m sending you my coordinates, come when the Commissioner picks up your mugger.”

In the distance, thunder rumbles. Robin glances at Red Robin and set his mouth into a grimace.

_I have a really bad feeling…_

\---~~~---

The Joker could not believe his good luck! He was sure those BatBrats were going to see him in the alley below them, but they were focused elsewhere! He made his way up to the roof via fire escapes and just as he makes it to the roof, they’re waving goodbye and went on their way.

Now, what held their attention? He peers across the street from the shadows and

_Damn! That is a threesome going on, are the BatBrats perverts?_ He smiles wider, he wouldn’t put it past them.

He moves his eyes over and he almost laughs out loud. There’s a young girl there, with an insane blush on her face. She’s sitting on the threesome balcony, just waiting to be taken.

_And who am I to deny such a blatant request?_

With a running start, he jumps over the gap and _wow, that is much farther than I thought._ He barely makes it, landing so he is crouching in front of his new toy.

Her eyes are so blue and innocent; and they are looking right at him. He smiles widely.

“My, my, my, you are almost perfect,” he glances behind her, at the room. He flicks his eyes back to hers. “Think your friends will miss you when you’re gone, toy?”

She frowns, and he pulls a knife out from his front pocket. There is drying blood from his last toy and her own plaything on the blade.

“Now, toy, we only smile here. See?” He uses the point of the knife to gesture to his own smile, “I am smiling.”

She swallows and tries to smile, scooting back a little bit.

“It’s a little pained, but, man, toy, you do have a pretty smile. I wonder if I can make it prettier?” He leans forward, raising the knife to her scared face.

Her innocent blue eyes suddenly harden and snaps her hand out, knocking his knife off the balcony.

“HAHAHAH! Toy! Where did that come from? Are you more interesting that I imagined? No wonder the BatBrats took an interest in you!” He is giggling controllably. He reaches for her again, planning on grabbing her throat, but she rolls away and grabs the door handle.

It doesn’t move.

“Locked yourself out, did you, toy?”

She begins beating on the door, screaming, “Adrien! Adrien! Please, Adrien!”

“Oh, toy, you have such a pretty voice! And an accent! Ohhhh, I can’t wait to hear you laugh!”

Her beating gets more frantic, jiggling the door handle with all her might.

The Joker stands and wraps his arms around her torso.

And, then, _the bitch_ , she throws her body forward, causing him to flip over her small body.

“How did you do that, toy?” He’s still smiling but now he’s a little mad.

“Leave, now,” she pauses, “please.” Moving to stand defensively, one foot still kicking behind her to bang on the door.

As the Joker looks at her, he has to rub his eyes and look again. In the night, her hair looks black and those are serious blue eyes.

Again, the Joker can’t believe his good luck!

“I knew Brucie couldn’t stop his adoption habits for good! You, toy, look to be a new Wayne. Oooooo! I cannot believe I get to welcome you to the family this way!” He sits up, rubbing his back.

“What are you talking about? I am no Wayne.”

He stalks forward, managing to grab her throat and lifting her up and pressing her against the balcony doors, hard.

It begins to rain around them, falling in sheets as a storm hits. The rain making his face make up run, revealing his scars. He still smiles at her as her blue eyes widen in either fear or disgust. He doesn’t care, she’ll have her own soon enough.

“Are you calling me stupid, toy? I know what I’m seeing, and what I’m seeing is Wayne material.” He squeezes her throat more and her lips turn blue, her small hands grabbing at his wrist and arm. He slams her against the door and drops her. She falls to her hands and knees, coughing and gasping for breath. She looks up at him, the blue of her lips slowly returning to normal.

The Joker inhales, the feeling of power filling his lungs. The sound of thunder so close making him laugh aloud. He moves his foot back to kick her in the stomach, but the bitch moves out of the way. He narrows his eyes, smile turning malicious.

“You, dear toy, are trained, aren’t you?” She’s still trying to catch her breath, using her hands to move her now wet hair out of her face as she stands back up, her petite frame shaking like a leaf. _With fear or anger, I’m not sure._

With insane speed, she throws the chair that was beside the door at him, clipping his shoulder. He growls as he stumbles back.

“Toy,” he growls, “you are to play nicely.” He moves to pull a pistol out of his waistband.

With one last eye flick to the door, she darts off and over the balcony edge.

The Joker blinks, and rushes to edge to look at what should be a mangled body at the bottom. There is no body. There is, however, a small figure balcony hopping toward the roof next door. _She is fucking fast, oh boy I am so excited!_

He laughs, and shouts out while jumping to the next balcony, “you are my new favorite toy! I am so happy you decided to play!”

_My new favorite toy indeed._

\---~~~---

A voice whispers to Adrien, _“Adrien… Adrien… Please… Adrien”._ The voice sounds like it is underwater. Or is Adrien underwater?

All Adrien can feel are warm hands, warm tongues, and warm lips. It is too much and yet not enough. He’s sweating, and the cold is so far away from his mind.

He opens his eyes and there is nothing but colors in the air. There is a banging sound somewhere, but it is so far away. He glances toward the balcony, his eyes unfocused.

_It looks like Marinette is floating, with the help of a shadow man. That is so good for her._

Adrien groans as whoever he’s with plays with his hair. His voice strains and he’s so thirsty.

So much warmth, he is burning from the inside. He looks back at the balcony, breathing hard as _Clarissa, maybe_ does a crazy thing with her hips and as _Annie?_ is pressed against both of them. He looks at the balcony once more.

_And now Marinette is invisible. She is fucking cool. And that shadow man just ran by the window._

As Adrien focuses back on the physical feelings he is getting, he looks at the clock on the wall, and he thinks it reads 1:17 am.

And with that, he slips toward oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL! I know I say this at the end of basically every chapter, but I am so happy with the reception this story is getting. And all the comments on the chapters! I try to reply back to everyone because they all mean so much! The worries and the theories and the reiterations of funny lines fill me with so much joy! 
> 
> Thank you a million times! 
> 
> -Roarking :)


	7. In the Rain (Marinette POV/Joker POV/Damian POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette runs. Joker gets beaten up. Robin finds his Angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Violence
> 
> Some French in this chapter, as well as some Arabic. Translations at end note!

Marinette is running on rooftops, again. She hasn’t done that in six months. She’s not even on roofs she knows! She is in Gotham, with the actual Joker trying to catch her, calling her his toy.

She swallows the bile rising up her throat, wincing as it hurts to do so.

_I am so thankful I slipped tennis shoes on before leaving the hotel room, and at least I am wearing a t-shirt and sleep shorts and not some flimsy pajamas._

But her clothes are not doing much in protecting her from the cold rain that pours on top of her. She is freezing and is shaking so violently she’s surprised she hasn’t collapsed. As she rounds the corner of one roof, she hops down a level and hides behind a heating and cooling unit for businesses.

She takes a deep, shuddering breath and focuses some of her remaining energy inward.

_“Tikki, what’re my options here. I have a maniac chasing me, it is cold and wet and dark. Please tell me we can think of a solution.”_

Marinette scans the surrounding buildings, straining her ears for the sound of the Joker’s footfalls.

_“Marinette! Oh, my poor girl! You’re practically running on empty in terms of her energy.”_

_“What does that mean, Tiks? Am I going to die out here?”_ Marinette laughs bitterly, what a way to go.

_“No! You might just collapse after the adrenaline leaves your body after we get you out of here, so make sure you are on solid ground.”_ Tikki sounds so sure, so motherly that tears spring into Marinette’s eyes. Thankful for the rain, the few tears that manage to fall are quickly hidden.

Marinette places a freezing hand over her mouth as her teeth rattle louder. The overflowing feeling of security that comes from Tikki surrounds Marinette and she feels sure of her capabilities.

_“Okay, Tikki. What can I do?”_ Marinette strains her hearing once more, now the sound of running registers. _“And can you tell me it quickly? I’m on a time limit.”_

_“Marinette, as the Living Box of Miracles, you can transform with any of the Kwami inside of you. Also, because you are a True Wielder, any Kwami you transform with should be a seamless transformation, 100% blended to you. I recommend Plagg for this situation.”_

Plagg’s voice comes through mentally. _“Are you sure, Sugarcube?”_

_“Positive Stinkysock; the amount of destruction and bad luck surrounding our girl is causing others to gain her good luck, and some serious problems for Marinette. She needs to counteract the other’s good luck by wielding bad luck and destruction. Our girl needs her luck back! Just make sure you keep the lust for destruction minimal!”_

Marinette nods along to Tikki’s reasoning. _I guess this explains the Joker situation, and maybe the Adrien situation? Is he taking my good luck or am I just taking his bad luck?_ Marinette groans. _I can’t even think right now._

_“Are you ready, Plagg?”_ Marinette stands and shakes out her hands.

_“I’m ready, Sweets.”_ Marinette rolls her eyes at the nickname, as the wave of nostalgia it brings hurts her heart.

“Plagg, claws out.” An electric blue light washes over Marinette, leaving her skin tingling. Where Marinette once stood, Lady Noire stands in her place, looking down at herself, she is surprised to see electric blue detailing instead of the electric green, and no bell when she became Lady Noire the last time. She is also surprised to see a utility belt slung at her hips. _Upgrade!_

She inhales deeply, her piercing blue eyes adjusting to the dim light of the city.

She pauses and inhales again.

_“Plagg, why does the city suddenly smell, uh, sweet? Like sickly sweet?”_

There’s laughter in her head, and as she leaps back over the roof to look for the Joker, Plagg responds.

_“That is how the embodiment of Destruction and Bad Luck can identify misfortune. This city is drenched in it. You can counteract it by utilizing it. The Cataclysm that Chat utilized used his own bad luck. However, you can draw the surrounding misfortune to utilize Cataclysm, without damaging your own luck. Pretty great, huh?”_

Noire smiles, her newly sharpened canines flashing in the low light. Her leather ears swivel to the sound of heavy breathing coming from behind, and she turns to stalk the hunter.

With one last inhale, Noire licks her lips, her long braid flicking in anticipation, and starts running.

\---~~~---

The Joker is no longer enjoying his chase. When he gets his hands on his toy, he’ll be surprised if she survives.

He pauses.

Maybe he won’t kill her, but he will break her. She will beg for his mercy, even if it is the last thing he’ll do. He laughs hard in between his panting.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He whirls around, but sees no one.

“Have you come to your senses, toy? Hm? Come to daddy,” he laughs again, but it sounds slightly strained.

There is a sound in the air, low and volatile. The Joker wheels around and stares into the shadows. There among the darkness are piercing blue eyes. Sharp white teeth shine into a wide smile.

A deceptively sweet voice rings out, distorted slightly due to what he assumes is growling.

“Bonjour, petite souris. Vouloir jouer un jeu?”

“I don’t have time for this, you bitch! I need to find my toy!” He move to jump over to the next roof, but a staff shoots out from the shadow with the smile and bright blue eyes, swatting him backward.

“Mon nom est Noire, et maintenant c'est à vous de faire du mal.” With those words, the shadow moves, revealing…

“Catwoman? Did you dye your hair? Actually,” he squints at her, “you ain’t Catwoman. Look, sweetheart, I really gotta get going. I have a thing with a thing, you know how it is.” He laughs again, but there is a fine sprinkling of sweat on is brow.

The Catwoman wannabe actually growls and bares her fangs. Electric blue eyes almost blinding as the pupils turn into slits. She stalks forward, gracefully moving, almost with a certain kind of fluidity. She stand above him, staring down at him, teeth exposed, hair braid… moving?

_What the hell is this chick?_

He coils up and rams his feet into her chest, sending her sliding backwards. He jumps up and reaches for his gun. He looks up and aims and-

_Where did she go?_

He whips his head around, looking for any movement. It is almost silent, save for the distant sounds of downtown and the heavy rain falling all around.

“Come out and fight me, bitch! You think you can just mess with the Joker? You have another thing coming! I am fear incarnate! People who do not worship me, fear me! I have brought death to thousands! And I will certainly add you to that list, too.” He waits, and fires his gun into the air several times, yelling, “fucking- come out!”

The sweet, distorted voice speaks out again, but it is hard to pinpoint where it is coming from. “J'ai vu la fin du monde plus de fois que je ne peux compter. Tu es juste un homme en colère.” Then, there is a whizzing sound and next thing the Joker knows, he’s flying into the air. He lands hard on the next roof over, gasping to catch his breath.

Fake Catwoman vaults over with a matte black staff with the same electric blue detailing as her leather suit. He stares up at her, still smiling and laughing. Fake Catwoman smiles back, inhaling so deeply, her little nose flares. Her once slit eyes are now expanding rapidly, and she smiles wider.

Joker raises the gun up, trying to ignore the way his hand is shaking.

She saunters over, hips swaying and braid moving the opposite way, like a pendulum. It is terrifying and mesmerizing at the same time. She extends one finger out on her right hand, and mutters so softly, the sound of the rain hitting the roof nearly drowning out the word, “cataclysme.” She touches the gun, and it dissolves into dust, crumbling and being washed away by the rain.

He screams, and scrabbles backward. The sound of his own boots scrapping the roof is insanely loud. She reaches out once more with her right hand, a feral grin on her face and the eyes of a hunter. The Joker swallows hard. A few hysterical giggles fall out from his scarred lips. He is going to die.

_Is this what everyone felt like before I killed them?_

She opens her mouth to speak, but suddenly, leather cat ears perk up and out of her black hair. They twitch to the right. She closes her mouth, her eyes flicking to the east then back to him. She smiles, and like the thief she is inadvertently is imitating, fades into the shadows.

The Joker groans and rubs his face, flopping backward onto the roof. He lets the rain wash over him.

_She was so small, but she practically kicked my ass. And that power, she disintegrated my gun!_

The Joker scrambles up. “That bitch nearly made me forget about my new toy! Fuck!” He turns but immediately rams into a hard wall of muscle. Looking up from the ground, he sees Red Hood and Nightwing. “Hello, BatBrats. Have you seen my new toy around? Pretty little thing, could pass for one of Brucie’s adopted offspring. No?”

Red Hood turns his head to Nightwing. “He looks pretty beat up,” Nightwing looks up and down, nodding. “I also don’t see her anywhere up here. What happened Joker, where’s the girl you took?” Red Hood and Nightwing both reach down and grab his arms, patting him down for any surprises before zip-tying his wrists together. He winces as the strain his newly forming bruises.

He begins to laugh. “Oh, you won’t believe it! My new toy actually managed to run! She ran and ran and I wouldn’t be surprised if she is lying in an alleyway somewhere passed out from the cold and rain, she wasn’t wearing weather appropriate clothing, you know? I almost had her, too. But then this stupid fucking Catwoman wannabe starts fighting me, speaking in that fru-fru language and,” he laughs again, almost near tears, “she destroys my gun! One touch and poof! No more gun! I thought for sure she was going to kill me, but, alas, you darling BatBrats came to my rescue. My” he gags, “heroes.”

\---~~~---

“Good looking out, boys!” Commissioner Gordon praises as he loads the would-be mugger into the police cruiser.

Robin tries to focus on his words, but the tight ball of anxiety in his chest is steadily growing, making listening difficult.

“Red, can you handle the statements? I need to go check on her. I have a bad feeling, and I am not one to ignore my instincts.” His fingers are tapping a rhythm rapidly on his thigh.

Red Robin sighs, “Alright, go check real quick, then we meet back up immediately.”

Relief has never spread so quickly throughout his body. He claps a hand on Red Robin’s shoulder, “thank you, shaqiq.”

The noise in his ear nearly doubles are Hood and Nightwing both coo. He groans and uses his grapple to make a quick escape.

When he stands on the roof that is across from Angel’s hotel, he looks for her balcony. “You said she was outside? She’s not now.” He tries his best to ignore the sense of dread in his gut.

“Maybe she went inside to get some rest? It is almost 2:00 am. Land on the balcony and take a really quick look to see if she’s in bed. Just, don’t be a peeping tom, Baby Bird.”

Red Hood howls with laughter and Robin is extremely aware of his flaming cheeks. With a nod he makes his way over to the balcony. When he gets there, he pauses and looks around. There is a cell phone on the ground with earbuds beside it. The balcony chair is turned over. He looks over the railing and sees a bloody knife on a balcony below. He peaks into the window and sees Agreste and his harlots passed out onto the bed furthest from the window.

But no Marinette. He grabs the door handle. “Locked,” he mutters. “Dammit.”

“Robin? Status update.” Red Robin’s voice filters in. He takes a deep breath, steeling his nerves. _I will not panic._ He picks up the cell phone, glad it is in a waterproof case and jumps to the balcony with the knife. Gingerly picking it up, he slides it into an evidence bag he carries on hand. “She’s not here,” he swallows, “and there appears to be a sign of a struggle. And I found a bloody knife.”

Several swears are heard over the comms.

“Robin,” Batman’s voice filters through, “you are to stay there and wait for Red Robin. Together, you can look for Miss Dupain-Cheng. Am I understood?”

“But”-

“Am I understood, Robin?” his voice comes out gruff. With a sigh, Robin concedes.

Ten minutes later, Red Robin appears on the roof across the street. Robin grapples over, “what are we going to do?” He tries to sound sure, but he doesn’t recognize his voice.

“We start looking, c’mon.” Just as they make their way onto the next roof over, there are several distinct pops into the air. The Robins stop and look at each other.

Red Hood’s voice cuts in, “we got gunfire, sounds like half mile away from Nightwing and I. We are in pursuit.”

“Copy that, Hood. Oracle, do we have any visual of Joker, or the girl?” Batman asks, and Robin holds his breath.

“Yes and no, Bats. Via city cameras, Joker and Marinette were last seen running on the roofs three blocks south from her hotel.”

Red Robin glances over at Robin, inclining his head in question. Robin nods and begins to grapple further south, keeping his eyes open and alternating between watching the roofs and the alleyways.

Red Robin’s voice enters his ear, “en route to last known location.”

_Please, Angel, be okay. I want to get to know you. I want to see you smile at me again. I want to know why you put up with that bullshit Agreste when you deserve so much better. You showed your kindness to me without any expectations of what my name could get you. You chose my charity to donate to, giving so many children and young teens hope for a better tomorrow. I want to be **your** better tomorrow. Please, be alright. _

Nightwing’s voice interrupts his thoughts, “we just heard a pretty loud scream, couldn’t tell if it was feminine or not.”

Hood’s voice follows behind Nightwing’s, “about a block away.” Robin stops and listens to the city around him. He can’t just lose the first person to ever spark such a reaction from him, can he? Would fate be that cruel?

“Joker in sight, but he’s alone.” Hood says. “Making contact.”

Robin can hear Joker rambling about a toy, but also calling the toy a possible Wayne?

_Marinette does fit the bill of those other adopted morons I call a family._

Joker says another thing, this time about Marinette’s attire and _shit, he’s probably right. She’s probably freezing to death in this weather!_

Robin goes down to street level, scanning every alleyway he goes by. Joker is talking about a Catwoman impersonator? _That man in insane._

Just as he passes another alleyway, movement catches his eye. He double takes, and nearly sags in relief for the second time tonight. But this time is so much sweeter.

_I see you, Angel. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you._

Marinette is stumbling, shivering so hard and violently, Robin is surprised she’s still standing. She is soaking to the bone and barely has her eyes open.

“Miss? Miss are you alright?” Robin calls out to her, but it is clear she won't be responding.

“Robin,” Red Robin’s voice crackles in his ear, “do you have visual on Marinette?”

“Yea,” he breathes, “I see my Angel.” And with that, Robin shuts off his comms, and walks over to Marinette, catching her just as she collapses from exhaustion.

“I got you, Angel. I got you.” He hugs her freezing frame to his body, wrapping his cape around her, eyeing the bruising around her neck.

He uses the one-way phone system to Batman and dials, “send the Batmobile, she has passed out and needs to get somewhere warm, immediately,” he pauses, then adds, "and possible medical attention." 

Batman’s voice is significantly softer than before, “of course, son,” then hangs up.

As Robin stars down into his Angel’s face, he strokes her cheek lightly, moving her midnight colored hair off her beautiful face.

“You’re safe now, Angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 200 kudos!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!! I am so happy people are liking this fic! 
> 
> -Roarking :)) 
> 
> Bonjour, petite souris. Vouloir jouer un jeu? - Hello, little mouse. Want to play a game? 
> 
> Mon nom est Noire, et maintenant c'est à vous de faire du mal. - My name is Noire, and now it's your turn to hurt.
> 
> J'ai vu la fin du monde plus de fois que je ne peux compter. Tu es juste un homme en colère. - I have seen the end of the world more times than I can count. You are just an angry man. 
> 
> Cataclysme. - Cataclysm
> 
> Shaqiq. - Brother


	8. Wayne Manor (Marinette POV/Damian POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette wakes up at the Wayne Manor. Damian is basically a nervous wreck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically some nice light fluff before the nitty gritty of what's coming up. No trigger warning apply for today's chapter! 
> 
> Also, Steph and Cass aren't here in this AU-super sorry if that upsets anyone! I may add Cass later, but as of right now I don't have a place for them. 
> 
> And! Damian never died in this AU, but Jason still did. 
> 
> Thanks for understanding! -Roarking

Groaning, Marinette rolls over onto her stomach, placing a soft pillow over her head to block out the vibrations of her phone on the nightstand beside her. She scrunches her eyes, trying to keep the already fading images of her dreams.

The Joker?

Running on unfamiliar rooftops?

Plagg’s laughter?

She groans again, wincing as the vibrations hurt her neck for some reason, and fumbles for her phone to silence the alarm. Why is her alarm going off? Did she have errands to run?

_Wait a second._

Marinette jumps from the bed, bleary eyes blinking at the unfamiliar room. Has she been kidnapped? She presses her hands to her head, running her slender fingers through her midnight hair, yanking back sharply when she comes across a small knot at the back of her skull.

“H-hello?” she tries to call out, but her throat is so dry and there’s that pain in her neck again. Marinette frowns and turns about the room. Deep dark blues and rich wood tones are the first thing she registers, pale light filtering through semi-sheer curtains from wall to ceiling windows on one wall. She goes and looks out the window, eyebrows furrowing.

_The Wayne Gardens? What am I doing here? Didn’t I go back to the hotel with…_

“Adrien.” The low growl that comes from Marinette hurts her throat, but she welcomes the sensation. Images from her dream flash in her mind, but she realizes they are memories from last night, and not a terrible dream. She really was attacked by the Joker. She really did transform with Plagg, she smiles at the memory of the feeling of being transformed with the Kwami of Destruction, so different than transforming with Tikki.

Where Tikki felt like a warm caress and security, Plagg felt like chaos and electrically charged power, waiting to be harnessed.

Marinette moves back to the, frankly, huge four poster bed in the middle of the room, the ornate headboard pressed against the back wall. She trails a finger over the silky blue sheets, then pauses.

Marinette glances down, taking in the obvious change in wardrobe. She is now wearing an oversized, faded red t-shirt and a pair of worn grey joggers. Her feet are bare, pink toenails wiggle a hello at her, and the bruises from Adrien’s… she frowns, but continues the thought, assault peep through the ankles of the bottoms.

Face burning in embarrassment, she rushes to pick up her phone. She has one new voicemail from Jagged. Raising the phone to her ear, she spots a folded envelope with her name written in pretty, girly script.

_“Nettie-girl! Pen and I are currently in L.A. and we wanted to wish you good luck on the apartment hunting! We’re still trying to understand why you just won’t accept staying at our place for the time being! There’s no rush on getting your store front open just yet. You’re probably meeting with a realtor now, it is just past 11 in the morning where you are. Pen and I hope to see you soon, kisses Nettie-girl!”_ Marinette smiles at Jagged’s antics, then freezes. She had meetings with realtors today! She looks down at her phone, finally registering the time.

3:17 pm.

Marinette’s blood runs cold in panic. She missed two of her three meetings. The next one being at 4:00; her alarms had been buzzing almost all afternoon! Grabbing two fistfuls of hair, Marinette begins to tug and pace in the small room. She eyes one of the three doors in the spacious room. Marching over toward it, she grips the handle and flings it open.

Pale grey marble and a white porcelain make her eyes widen. Marinette walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her to freshen up.

After a well-deserved shower, an email to all the realtors asking to redo the meetings and tours tomorrow, and a quick examination at the damage the Joker did to her - _yikes, that is a nasty bruise on her neck-_ Marinette collapses back onto the bed. Wrapping in an overly fluffy white bathrobe, she stares up at the ceiling, contemplating.

_Plagg said, that by wielding him in Gotham-a city dripping in misfortune-my natural good luck from being Tikki’s chosen should start to return. Why it left, or was dampened in the first place… So, is this place going to be good luck for me? Man, I really hope so._

Marinette sits up, and eyes the folded note on the nightstand, her name written clear as day. With a sigh, she picks up the damn thing and beings to read:

_Marinette!_

_I know you’re probably freaking out right now, but you were brought to the Wayne Manor early this morning by Batman and Robin. Since the Wayne’s aren’t really used to girls, seeing as the family consists of mostly men, Mr. Wayne called me over to help you out. Apparently, you’d been out like a light since Robin spotted you walking alone, drenched and freezing in the streets of Gotham. I really hope you don’t mind, but I, along with ~~Alfred~~ Mr. Pennyworth, changed you out of your soaking wet clothes and Mr. Pennyworth took them to clean. He will also provide you with a nice hot meal when you wake, should you ask him. _

_I am so sorry you had to deal with that awful man, Marinette. I truly am. Call me if you need anything at all._

_Babs Gordon_

_(XXX-XXX-XXXX)_

Marinette represses the shiver of the thought of a near stranger undressing her, but as she stares at the name ‘Alfred Pennyworth’, the strings of recognition tug in her mind. She decides to call Jagged, he might know the man-he seems to know everyone.

Marinette pressed the contact **Uncle J** , and presses the phone to her ear.

_“Nettie! How did the tours go? Find one you like?”_

Marinette presses her thumb and forefinger to the space between her eyes. Swallowing hard and ignoring the protesting pain from her throat, she speaks:

“Actually, Jagged, I had to reschedule those tours. Something, uh, important came up. But that’s not why I’m calling. Do you know an Alfred Pennyworth, by any chance? The name rings some bells for me, but I can’t place why…” she trails off, praying to every kwami within her that this man, who has seen her basically naked, is someone trustworthy.

Jagged lets out a hum in thought, then gasps loudly.

_“Uncle Alfie! Oh, Nettie, that man was best friends with my uncle when I was growing up! He nearly raised me for the first seven years of my life! He’s why I have an English accent instead of that bloody Gotham accent! I love that man like family, Nettie! Haven’t heard from him in a long while, ever since he took that job for… wait,”_ Jagged pauses, calling Penny over to where he probably was. _“Why are you asking about Uncle Alfie, Nettie?”_

“I am currently in the Wayne Manor, Jagged. There is a man by the name of Alfred Pennyworth here, too. Again, I was just asking you to confirm if you kn-” Marinette was cut off by Jagged’s yelling at Penny.

_“Pen! Get Fang’s gear and have that new assistant pack our bags! As soon as the concert is over tonight we’re heading home!”_ A pause, then, _“yes to Gotham! Nettie just met Uncle Alfie! And I’m Nettie’s uncle! I need to be there to enjoy this moment of Uncle-ception!”_

“Wait, Jagged, that’s not-” the line went dead. “-right.”

Marinette flops onto her back, pressing her fingers into her temples, trying to rub a headache that suddenly formed in her head. She stands, and makes her way over to the door she assumes will lead to hallway. She places her hand on the door knob, and is about to turn when the door on the adjacent wall knocks.

_This room has a stupid layout in my opinion._ Marinette grumbles and makes her way over to the correct door, calling out.

“Mr. Pennyworth? I’d like to thank you and Ms. Gordon for taking such great care,” she grabs the door handles and pulls it open, making eye contact with the stormy jade eyes from the night before, “of me,” she whispers.

\---~~~---

Pacing. Pacing and checking the time. Pacing, checking the time, and pretending he isn’t being impatient. That was all Damian could do since he woke up at 12:30 this afternoon.

He had eaten a light lunch while his family had stared at him, making his ears burn.

He had moved to the library, picking up book after book, desperately trying to ignore the fact that Marinette is in his home, wearing one of his old t-shirts. When Babs had asked about clean dry clothes for Marinette to sleep in, Damian had practically sprinted to provide some of his favorite lounge about clothing.

He had moved outside to the gardens, allowing Titus to run around while he walked around, picturing the gardens during Christmas time with all the white lights. He had the strangest sensation of wanting Marinette to see the gardens lit up for Christmas. Surely this is just a passing infatuation, he’s had plenty of those.

_Who am I kidding? I am smitten and I have had one conversation with her. Am I going crazy or what?_ He smiles ruefully. With that one conversation, Marinette had left Damian exposed and unarmed with her kindness. The lightness of her voice covering his heart and soul like a soothing balm.

Damian stops his pacing and looks at the clock on the wall of the study he currently waits in. It is a quarter to four in the afternoon. He makes the executive decision to go see if Marinette is not only awake, but if she would like to stay for dinner.

_I mean, at this rate, she might as well stay the night again, right? Maybe I can convince Grayson and Todd to do one of those obnoxious movie nights to make her feel more comfortable?_

With a sharp nod of his head, Damian is off to find Marinette. On his way, Alfred hands Damian a bundle of clothes, stating they are Marinette’s from last night and to offer her another outfit should she decide to stay for dinner.

Once Damian makes his way to ~~Marinette’s~~ the room Marinette is staying in, he knocks quickly and waits a moment. He can hear speaking and getting louder as she grows closer. Damian shakes the one hand that knocked on the door out and places it on the door frame. Then moves it behind his back. Then moves it to his side. Then in his pocket.

_Good Lord, what is wrong with me?_

Marinette then opens the door and just stares at him, her face rapidly changing from light cream to an alarming shade of red.

“Of me,” Marinette whispers.

Damian opens his mouth to say…anything and the next thing he knows the door is being slammed in his face. Damian’s mouth is hanging open and he glances to the side, blinking a few times in bewilderment.

It’s only after the moment did what Marinette was wearing register in his mind.

_Wet hair. Fluffy bathrobe._ She had taken a shower and hasn’t even gotten dressed yet. Damian can feel his own face heating up in embarrassment. His father raised a gentleman, after, of course, training the assassin out of him.

Damian frowns, registering, second, the bruise on her throat. The Joker had done that to her. Anger fills up inside of him momentarily before he takes a calming breath. 

Damian knocks on the door again, “Miss Marinette? I have your clean clothes. Alf, er, Mr. Pennyworth gave them to me to give to you. Are you alright?” Damian mentally facepalms, _of course she’s not alright. She was locked out of her hotel room by a toxic blond and attacked by the damn Joker and passed out in the streets of Gotham soaking wet and freezing._

Damian mutters under his breath, “get it together, Wayne.” A beautiful woman should not disarm so much. He doesn’t even know her. Damian furrows his brows, that train of thought making his heart slightly ache. He reaches to absentmindedly rub his chest with his free hand.

Marinette reappears with the opening of the door, face still slightly pink and his clothes replacing the bathrobe she previously had on. Her hair is still damp, the midnight tresses curling just the slightest, falling gently onto her shoulders. Her bluebell eyes bright and she smiles shyly at him. Damian's eyes linger on the bruise at her throat before meeting her gaze, offering a small smile to help ease her. 

“I am so sorry about that, Monsieur Damian. Had I known another guest would be checking in on me, I would have been much more presentable.” She laughs lightly and Damian smiles in return, “so are you staying with the Wayne’s just for the weekend or,” she cocks her head to the side, still smiling at him.

“Actually, my name is Damian Wayne, Miss Marinette. We never got past our first names last night,” Damian chuckles and holds out his hand.

Marinette stares a little dumbfounded and Damian has a sinking feeling that she will start acting different now that she knows he’s a Wayne.

_I should have known not to get my hopes up. Fame, money, power-that is all anyone wants._

As he mentally chides himself on being foolish, Marinette shakes her head and smiles her shy smile again, sliding her warm slender hand into his, shaking it once. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It is nice to officially meet you, Damian Wayne.”

“You as well, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you as well.” Damian is vaguely aware that Marinette still has her hand in his, and all he can do is look into her eyes. They are filled with a kindness and gentleness that sends his heart racing.

“I know you are probably a very busy woman, Miss Marinette, but would you like to stay for dinner? I’m not really sure when you ate last, and Alfred, I mean, Mr. Pennyworth is a fantastic cook.” _Please say yes. Let me get to know you. I want you to know me, too._

Marinette pushes her light pink lips out in thought, playing with her fingers as her eyebrows pull together. She reaches into the pocket of ~~his~~ the joggers she has on and pulls out her phone. She nods her head from side to side, and flicks her eyes up toward his.

“Let me make a call, okay? And only dinner, I really need to get back to the hotel so I can get my stuff together.”

“Of course, take your time. Here are your clothes, and if you need anything I will be down the hall in the second room on the right.” Damian smiles a small smile at her. She returns a brighter one, grabbing her clothing from his hand, and brings the phone up to her ear.

He nods once, turns, and walks down the hall.

Damian smiles to himself as he walks away, Marinette’s lightly accented voice floating down the hall. He’s feeling accomplished.

_She’s staying for dinner._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3000 hits???? And all the comments on the last chapter made my heart soar! Thank you thank you thank youuuuu! 
> 
> I am so happy :)
> 
> -Roarking :)
> 
> Also, ages:  
> Marinette-22  
> Damian-23  
> Adrien-22  
> Tim-26  
> Jason-27  
> Dick and Babs-29  
> Bruce-47  
> Alfred-??? the man is a mystery


	9. Right Before Dinner (Marinette POV/Jason POV/Damian POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette makes a decision. Jason officially meets Marinette. Damian and Marinette get to know each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more fluffy chapter before the next chapter.

Marinette, with her phone pressed to her ear, watches as Damian walks down the hall. She eyes his wide shoulders, the way his lightweight sweater stretches across the muscles. Her eyes travel downward, until they land on his-

_“Nettie! Calling back so soon?”_

Marinette sharply shakes her head. _Was I seriously checking him out? God, could my face get any hotter?_

“Hey, Jagged! I’ve been doing some thinking, and instead of staying at the hotel, I was wondering if it wasn’t too late to take up your's and Penny’s offer for me to stay at your place? Momentarily, of course.” Marinette bites her lip in anticipation, waiting for him to-

_“AH! Yes! Of course, Nettie-girl! We would love for you to stay there! Our home is your home! Our currently house sitter can pick up your bags from the hotel if you want and drop them back at the house.”_

“Eh, no, that’s okay. I have some personal documents I’d rather handle myself, y’know?” And boy does Marinette hope Jagged will let this one thing go. She loves the man, honestly. He can just be a bit…much.

_“Well, if you’re sure Nettie…”_ The way Jagged trails off makes the guilt that almost always reside in her sternum flare. However, instead of giving into the guilt, Marinette rolls her shoulders back, lifts her chin and swallows hard against the physical pain in her throat and the emotional pain of the permanent guilt.

“Yes, Jagged, I am super sure. I’m twenty-two now, no need to keep treating me like that fourteen-year-old when we first met.” Marinette giggles, recalling how Jagged would flaunt his over-the-top generosity toward Marinette and her parents. As endearing as it was, Marinette needs to learn not to rely on it. Starting with being able to say ‘no.’

Jagged sighs, and _damn_ if the guilt doesn’t swell just a little more, but then, _“you’re right, Nettie. You have grown into a beautiful and capable young woman. I’d like to think I helped do that, I mean, you’re my Nettie-girl! I just want you to be treated as the rock-n-roll girl that you are. You hear me, love?”_

Hearing the pride in Jagged’s voice makes something else grow inside Marinette’s chest. And it’s not the guilt. She’s not sure what it is just yet, but she hopes it continues to grow. “Thank you, Uncle J. Love you, and see you soon.”

_“Love you, too. I’ll send you the security code to your personal email later. Say hello to Uncle Alfie for me, alright?”_ Marinette smiles and she hears Jagged laugh.

“Alright, bye.” Marinette hums, happy with her decision to accept Jagged and Penny’s hospitality. Marinette sighs, tossing her clothes from last night onto the dresser. She goes back into the bathroom and stares at her neck, the hand shaped bruise looking awful against her pale skin.

She glances at her phone’s call log. No new calls from Adrien. She looks at her phone’s text messages. No new messages from Adrien. She checks her emails. No new emails from Adrien.

Surely, he had seen her last night, right? He was still in the room, doing…activities when the Joker came. Does he hate her so much that he’d rather her suffer at the hands of a certifiable mad man?

Marinette shakes her head, hard. _Adrien doesn’t hate me. He is going through a really rough time, but I am through with enabling his self-destructive ways. It’s time to get serious about helping him._

Marinette just wants her old friend back, not the shell of her friend. Doesn’t he know she would always be there to support him? Has she ever lead him to believe that he is unworthy of happiness? She is not his father, _~~the damned bastard.~~_

Worry tugs at her heart as she trails her thumb over his contact. Steeling herself, she hits the call button. It rings, and rings, and rings; eventually going to Adrien’s voicemail.

“Hey, Adrien. Call me when you get this. I think it’s time we actually have a talk.” She disconnects the call. For a brief moment, she wonders if what she is going to do in the near future is the best course of action; but, as she stares at the bruise the Joker left as he choked her and held her against the door to the hotel room _that they were sharing_ and Adrien doing nothing, she can’t find it in herself to doubt her plans. 

Running her fingers through her soft waves, Marinette makes her way down the hall to where Damian said he’d be.

Just as she rounds the corner, she smacks into a giant.

\---~~~---

Jason Todd is a man of many things.

A brother.

A son.

A friend.

A vigilante with homicidal tendencies.

That last bit on the last one is not really his fault, and he’s come a long way since the last Pit Madness flare up.

But, it’s still there. Always just underneath the surface, waiting to be let out and destroy everything. Jason wasn’t going to take any chances hurting anyone after what the League of Assassins had done to him. Hell, he’d even taken Demon Spawn’s offer to teach him how to meditate. He was that fucking serious about keeping his curse in check.

_I didn’t want to die, but I sure as hell didn’t want to come back._

He was a mess when he came back. Angry and hurt and confused. Like a chained-up predator being forced to do parlor tricks. He’d nearly killed Timmy, nearly killed Bruce. It’s taken almost eleven years to get to this point of control.

But last night, that was the closest it’s gotten to coming out. All thanks to that freak, the Joker. The Joker going after one of the only people that has made Demon Spawn act like, well, a human with emotions. The bastard had hurt that girl, exhausted her to the point of passing out. Probably scarred her beyond belief.

Jason rubs his face with his rough hands, the callouses scratching his chin as his five o’clock shadow catches on some of them. _If Dick hadn’t been there…_

Jason shudders at the thought, remembering the feeling of the Madness pulsating like a living thing, just under his skin. Begging to kill the Joker. Begging to be released. Begging… begging… begging...

And then seeing those bruises on Demon Spawn’s not girlfriend… Jason groans and gets up from his seat in the library, dog earring the page of _Sense & Sensibilities_, and makes his way through the halls. He needs to release some of this pent-up energy before he combusts.

As Jason walks through the Manor, his thoughts stray to Demon Spawn’s not girlfriend. She is so small, he stands over a foot taller than her. Pairing that with the fact that the Joker seems to have chosen her to go after sets Jason’s nerves on edge.

_She lives in Paris. She will go home sometime soon. She’ll be safe. The Joker won’t be able to get her._

While Jason thinks about this, he turns a corner and runs right into the subject of his thoughts.

“Oh! I’m sorry, are you o…” Marinette trails off, and just stares at him. Jason feels slightly uncomfortable by the intensity of her gaze. It’s like she’s looking inside of him, studying a puzzle or calculus problem.

“Um,” Jason shifts his weight and scratches his arm, “hey, Marinette, right? I’m Jason Todd, Dem- I mean, one of Damian’s brothers.” He holds out his hand for her to shake. She tilts her head and slowly places her hand into his. It strangely grows warm and Marinette slightly narrows her eyes. Jason swallows and offers a shaky smile.

Marinette shakes her head and smiles up at him, shaking his hand fully.

“I’m so sorry, Monsieur Jason. There’s just something… nevermind,” she smiles at him again, her bright blue eyes shining.

“No problem, Marinette. And none of that Monsieur shit, I’m just Jason, alright?” He smirks at her, enjoying the way her face reddens.

There’s a clearing of throat behind Jason, and Marinette focuses her attention to behind him. Her smile softens so much that he automatically knows who is behind him.

“Sup, Demon Spawn?”

“Todd.” Jason turns to face his brother, smiling down at him. Damian raises an unimpressed eyebrow. Jason raises his hands up in surrender and pushes Marinette toward Damian. She trips over her feet and Damian steadies her. Both their faces turn bright red.

Jason smirks and makes his way down the hall, “see ya at dinner, Marinette.”

\---~~~---

Damian stares at Jason’s back as he walks down the hall. He slides his eyes to Marinette. She’s staring after Jason, as well. But, her facial expression is an odd one. Her eyebrows are furrowed, her mouth is twisted to one side and she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek.

Then, Damian blinks and the expression on Marinette’s face is gone and she’s smiling up at him.

_It’s strange, I’m the shortest in my family and, yet, Marinette is so small… she makes my 5’10” frame feel tall._

“I know we’re basically friends now,” she laughs, eyes sparkling with amusement and a faint blush dusting her cheeks, making her smattering of freckles stand out. “But, would you like to, I don’t know, maybe get to know each other better? If you’d rather not, that’s fine, too. Or we can do anything you want to do?” She fiddles with her index fingers, peering up at him through her dark lashes, and-

_Oh, God. Don’t blush. Don’t blush. Do not blush._

He blushes despite his incredible will power. He shyly smiles, “of course, Miss Marinette. I would like to get to know you very much. How do you suppose we go about that?” He smirks.

Marinette blushes even brighter; but doesn’t back down. _Good._ “Well, why don’t we sit down and go back and forth asking each other questions that we both answer? Does that sound okay?”

Damian nods, but, he’s never actually done a “get-to-know-you game” so he’ll just follow Marinette’s lead. She gently grabs his hand, holding it loose enough so if he wants to pull away, he could. But he doesn’t; he merely blushes further and allows her to drag him into the rec room and toward the set of couches in front of a fireplace.

Marinette gingerly sits on one side of the couch and Damian sits on the other end. They face each other. She smiles at him and opens her mouth to speak.

“Okay, Monsieur Damian Wayne, how old are you?”

“I am twenty-three years old. How old are you Miss Marinette?”

“I turned twenty-two last December. And, it’s just Marinette, okay?” Damian nods. “Great! How many siblings do you have?”

Damian groans and Marinette’s smile grows, “I have three brothers: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake. They are very annoying and obnoxious. Always giving nicknames, always trying to irritate me, always in everyone’s business-they do not know the definition of ‘privacy’.” _Except our own. Everyone else’s is nonexistent._

Tim’s words from last night whisper in his mind, _“They have an impressive encryption system on all their accounts, so I can’t find any personal information on them.”_

_And, I suppose, except for Marinette’s. Which is nice, I want to be the one who figures you out, Marinette Dupain-Cheng._

“I can tell that you’re very fond of your brothers, Monsieur Damian. I’m sure they’re just as fond.” Damian rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it. 

“If you’re ‘just Marinette’, then I am simply Damian.” They smile and continue their game.

Damian learns that Marinette is ambidextrous; but favors her right hand. Learns that she grew up in a patisserie. Learns she graduated two years early and has a degree in Fashion Design and Technology from IFA Paris.

He also infers that Marinette is incredibly kind. Infers that Marinette might have a slight guilt complex. Infers that she doesn’t like talking about her accomplishments, so she is humble to a fault.

He, in turn, shares with Marinette that he is left handed. Shares that he grew up with his ~~insane~~ mother somewhere in the Caribbean Sea until he was ten; and has been living with his father and brothers ever since. Shares that he recently graduated with a degree in Business Management.

Damian finds himself eagerly listening to Marinette talk about her friends, Max and Kim; a couple who stood by her after a big understanding in middle school. She doesn’t mention Agreste, and he doesn’t ask.

Marinette, in return, gives Damian her undivided attention as he talks about Jon Kent. About how, even though the guy is three years younger, Damian can’t really picture his life without him. He also tells Marinette to not tell Kent that. The boy would become insufferable.

She laughs out loud and it is the most beautiful sound to Damian. They talk for almost two hours, and as they make their way to the dining room, Damian isn’t sure his heart has ever felt so light and warm.

_I hope I’m not the only one feeling this way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about to start the next little arc of the story! More backstory and angst coming soon! ;)
> 
> Thank you all for enjoying the story! It makes me so happy! 
> 
> -Roarking :)


	10. Flashbacks and Dinner (Adrien POV/Marinette POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback within a flashback within a dream (don't do drugs, kids). Marinette has some thoughts about a few of the Wayne boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Graphic Violence
> 
> Did someone order angst with a side of fluff?
> 
> Also: this story has over 50 typed pages and I feel like we're only a quarter of the way through the story I have in mind, so should I include a slow-burn tag or something? Thanks!

_Chat Noir groans as he tries to sit up. The back of his head throbbing where he hit the back of it after he fell several dozen feet down into the darkness below Hawkmoth’s lair. When he Cataclysm-ed the floor, he wasn’t really thinking that he would fall with it. He was just so angry and hurt and confused. He acted without thinking, and that thinking got him further down into the earth._

_He looked at his Miraculous, two of the paw pads have vanished. He has three more Cataclysms before a forced transformation._ I am so glad that five-minute time frame ended when my Lady and I turned eighteen.

_Chat sighs, he didn’t tell Ladybug his plans to confront ~~Father~~ ~~Gabriel~~ Hawkmoth. He simply followed him down that elevator in his study. His stomach in knots and anxiety gripping his throat. As he descended, he transformed with Plagg. Gone was perfect son Adrien Agreste, only Chat Noir remained. _

_The sight that greeted Chat when he entered the open space of Hawkmoth’s lair will forever be burned into his mind. Surrounded by unique plants that covered the walls and half of the floor were Hawkmoth, Mayura, and a glass coffin with…_

_Something splintered inside of Chat Noir. A break in his psyche. A tear in his resolve. He was shattering. As he stared at the serene face of ~~his~~ Adrien’s mother, hatred boiled inside of him. He was so focused on the glass coffin, he almost missed the Akuma coming right for him._

_Almost._

_“Cataclysm!” he roared and grabbed the Akuma, turning the butterfly into dust, sending a small wave of negative energy out, hitting him in the chest. It hurt to breathe for a second._

_“Chat Noir,” Hawkmoth drawled out, “what an unfortunate surprise. Where is Ladybug? Surely you aren’t here all alone?” Hawkmoth walked around the coffin, gloved fingers trailed lightly along the surface._

_“M’Lady is on her way,” he lied, “but perhaps you and I can talk about this before things get ugly?”_

_Mayura tensed as Hawkmoth placed a hand onto her shoulder. “There is nothing to discuss,” her emotionless voice echoing in the vast space, “Hawkmoth is only doing what he can to provide the life he deserves.” Hawkmoth nodded along with her statement, a weird thing creeping up onto his face. A smile maybe?_

_“Your life? What about your family?” Chat questioned, only getting blank stares in return. Desperation clawed at his throat, making the following questions sound hysterical as they left his mouth. “What about your son? What about Adrien?”_

_Chat turns to the sound of low groaning. Hawkmoth is staring up at the hole above, his cane currently residing in his chest, blood pooling around the metal rod. Chat walks over, and stares down at the man. With a shake of his head, he turns to the right of him, looking at Mayura’s broken body, her spine twisted at one angle, and her neck at the other._

_Chat Noir swallows the bile threatening to spill out of him. He glances back to Hawkmoth, who is now staring at Chat Noir, blood staining his mouth as he grimaces at him._

_“You worthless boy,” he croaks, a trail of blood falling at the corner of his mouth. “You are nothing but a child who knows nothing of what I have lost!” He tries to spit at Chat, but Hawkmoth can’t provide enough force for it go very far, so it lands onto his chin. He screams in rage, trying to thrash around, the hole in his chest growing wider and wider._

_Chat reaches out to steady the man, but he just snarls as Chat’s hand get too close. With a new found drive, Chat grabs the Butterfly Miraculous, forcing Hawkmoth to transform into ~~Father~~ Gabriel. As the transformation falls, Gabriel becomes very still, the bleeding from his chest suddenly speeding up. _

_Chat walks over to Mayura’s body, and grabs the Peacock Miraculous. The small crack in one side of it emanating a soft blue glow. He grips them both in his hands. Holding them tight, hoping to feel the sharp edges stab his skin. But he doesn’t._

_Finally, Chat looks over at the glass coffin where ~~his~~ ~~mother~~ Mrs. Agreste lay. The glass has shattered, and her body is slumped forward, arms dangling as the torso is twisted. Glass is imbedded into her skin. Yet, still the serene smile remains on her face. _

_Disgust turns his stomach over and over, while fury and desperation blind him. Chat storms over to Gabriel, who is now unmoving and stiff. Chat kicks the corpse again and again. His is dimly aware that his crying, but he can’t stop kicking. When he finally stops, Gabriel’s body is almost split in two from the staff in his chest and the force of his kicks._

_Chat Noir yowls in a desperate attempt to release some of this negative energy eating away at him. But, nothing helps._

_In a last ditch effort to expel the negativity, Chat Noir grips the Butterfly Miraculous in his right hand; holding it so tight his knuckles crack and strain in protest. He inhales, and as his exhales, Chat mutters “cataclysm.”_

_Chat Noir is thrown back from the surge of energy releases into the air. He slams into a metal wall and sags down. As he looks up, he blinks in shock. The world around him, it is all entirely black and white. No color at all. He glances down at his hands. His suit is a muted grey color, no longer the pitch black it was moments before._

_“Merde. Merde. Merdemerdemerdemerde. I can fix this! I can fix this! Okay, okayokayokayokayokayokay!” He grips the Peacock Miraculous in his right hand, which is shaking so violently his whole arm moves with the force. “I just need to create a balance and everything will be okay! Three, two, one… Cataclysm!” Chat screams as intense pain rips through his body. The once soft blue glow of the Peacock Miraculous is now a blinding white light that engulfs his body in what feels like flames._

_But the flames are ice cold, freezing him in place; unable to move or even scream, all Chat can do is stare as the black and white world around him crumbles._

_Just as Chat is about to lose consciousness, Red enters his field of vision._

_His Lady has come to fix everything…_

Adrien startles awake as someone yanks him up by his arms. His dream, or _memory?_ slink away into the recesses of his mind as the smell of stale cigarettes and coffee assault his nose.

“Hey! Fuckface! You think you can just fuck my sister _and_ my girlfriend and get away with it? Huh!?”

“What are you tal-” Adrien is cut off with a heavy punch to the jaw. He crumples to the ground. His arms automatically go around his head to protect himself for more blows.

There’s screaming, but Adrien doesn’t think that it’s him.

“Billy, stop! What we do with our own free time is none of your concern! You aren’t exclusive with Annie!”

_Oh right, Annie and Clarissa. The Gala. The LSD. The threesome. Invisible Marinet- wait._

Adrien’s blood runs cold and glances at the clock on the wall. 7:17 pm.

_Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit_

There’s a loud smack and Clarissa is on the ground now. Adrien doesn’t know where Annie is, and frankly he doesn’t care. Marinette is gone. She was taken. Adrien couldn’t protect her. _Failure. Failure. Failure!_

Pain explodes in his ribs. Billy must’ve kicked him. The pain comes over and over again; with each kick that connects with his ribs, the harder it is for Adrien to breathe. He coughs up blood.

_I’m disconnecting. I need to stay Adrien. Chat can’t come out, not right now._

**_But my Princess has been taken! Villains are attacking you! Fight back!_ **

****

_No! Chat must stay put, I will be fine!_

**_We must find Princess! She won’t last out there! Find her! Keep her safe! Make her ours! We are her safety!_ **

****

_Mari just a friend, Chat! We know this! Stop this craziness!_

**_Adrien is weak! I am strong! I can save our Princess! Let me out! Let! Me! Out!_ **

****

Adrien is fighting a losing battle. He can’t keep Chat contained. He does the only thing he can think of.

****

Adrien screams.

He screams so loud it can be heard from down the hotel hall.

Billy and Annie and Clarissa run away, leaving behind a beaten and bloody Adrien.

He screams and he screams and he screams until his body collapses, and he falls into darkness.

\---~~~---

“…and he says, ‘As of now I’m a vegetarian. And this is Bat-Cow.’”

Laughter erupts from the table, Marinette included. She’s enjoying the company of the Wayne family quite a lot. She smiles as she gazes at them: Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim. And of course, Alfred.

There are only a couple things that bother her.

Firstly, is the Jason Todd issue; there is something in him that is not so good. She sees the swirls of a sickly green energy surrounding his head and his heart. When she had shaken his hand, she gently probed the energy with her own. It reminded her of both Tikki and Plagg, yet also not at the same time. This was unfamiliar. She’ll have to converse with those two more on the matter. _What’s one more thing, right?_

Secondly, is the Alfred Pennyworth issue; she has yet to talk to the man. However, as soon as she entered the room where he was preparing the table, her heartrate increased. By a lot. She felt excited, incredibly so. And that excitement could only come from one Kwami. _Duusu._ So, Uncle Alfie was apparently one of Duusu’s chosen. She can’t wait to hear more about that one. From both Duusu and Alfred.

Thirdly, and probably the weirdest is Damian’s brother, Tim. He just keep smiling at her. And staring at her when he thinks she’s not looking. And it is kind of freaking her out.

Marinette leans over to Damian as the laughter subsides, and he leans over in return and she begins to whisper, “is Tim okay? He, uh, won’t stop staring at me? Is that normal for him to stare at guests?”

Damian’s dark jade eyes flick over to his brother, who is currently trying not to get caught staring at Marinette by acting as though his bowl of bread pudding is very interesting. Marinette watches as Damian scowls.

“One moment,” he mutters in his deep voice that sends shivers down her spine.

Marinette watches as suddenly Tim jumps in his seat and lets out a curse. “Fuck! Demon Spawn! The hell was that for!”

“You are making Marinette uncomfortable with your staring, just spit out whatever it is that you wish to say. Be a man, Drake.” Damian stares his brother down, and raises a dark eyebrow as he challenges his brother in what Marinette assumes is a battle of wills.

Tim is the one who crumbles. “Shit,” he sighs and rubs his eyes before looking Marinette in the eye, “I’m sorry Marinette. I’m just really excited that I get to meet you, is all.” He offers a sheepish smile and rubs the back of his neck as color floods his face.

“Excited to meet me? Why?” Marinette tries to calm her nerves by taking a sip of water. _Don’t say Ladybug. Don’t say Ladybug. Don’t say-_

“Well…” he draws out the word, and then, in a single breath says, “I kind of know that you’re _MDC_ and I am a really big fan of yours and I’ve been on your commission waitlist for three months and when I found out you had actually made it to the charity gala and also donated to Demon Spawn’s charity I couldn’t help myself so I might have checked the cameras and saw you make the donation?”

Marinette chokes on her water, and Damian awkwardly pats her back, making her embarrassment grow.

“You know my work?” She asks as she finally catches her breath.

“Um, duh. You are one of the most influential designers with some of the most amazing rotation of clients! You do consultation work at _Style Queen_! You are Jagged Stone’s and Clara Nightingale’s personal designer! Since you were in your teens!”

“Oh,” Marinette laughs, “I guess I am. But, wait, I thought I donated to the charity that provides kids and teens a safe and creative way to let go of some negativity?”

Damian clears his throat, “yes, DaGW is the art program I created a few months ago. It’s done well so far. And, now, with your donation last night…” he trails off and smiles softly at her. Marinette feels not only her face burning, but also the many eyes of Damian’s family.

Damian must also feel the eyes of his family, because he stiffens and glares at his brothers.

_He is really freaking cute. Oh boy…_

Marinette takes another sip of her drink, hoping to cool down her internal temperature. Her eyes slide to Jason and find that he is looking at her as well. It’s hard for Marinette to focus on Jason’s face with the green energy swirling around his head and heart, but she eventually makes eye contact. She smiles, and he smirks back.

“So, Pixie Pop,” he starts and Marinette blinks at the nickname. _I know I’m short, but seriously?_ “I know you’re from Paris, so how long you stayin’ in town? Gotta be ready to head back home, right?”

“Oh, well, actually, I was supposed to look at apartment slash store fronts today… but seeing as though I slept most of the day, those have been rescheduled for later this week.”

Marinette watches as the green energy condenses around Jason’s head before resuming its normal pattern. She furrows her brows, wishing she could touch his hand again to probe the strange energy.

“You’re moving to Gotham? As in, leaving Paris and staying in Gotham?” Jason sounds incredulous. “Why in the world would you do that?”

“I’m no longer needed in Paris, and Gotham is the home town of one of my main employers. I’m sorry, have I done something wrong?” Marinette asks, her lips turning down into a slight frown.

A chorus of ‘no’s echo in the dining hall. Jason isn’t one of them.

Damian gently takes Marinette’s hand under the table, drawing her attention from Jason and his swirling green energy to the intense gaze of Damian’s stormy eyes. Her skin tingles where is calloused fingers grip hers.

“I’m sure what Todd means to say is, you were targeted last night by the Joker. He doesn’t give up easily. If you were to remain in Gotham… well I’m sure my family and I just want to make sure you are safe.” He tries to reason with her, but all Marinette can do is bite her bottom lip to keep from explaining just how _safe_ she actually is.

She inhales and gives Damian’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I appreciate the concern, but the place I’m staying at as of today has top of the line security.”

Damian frowns and turns to his father, “has someone invited her to stay here?”

All the Wayne boys glance around at one another, and Marinette can’t help but laugh.

“No, I’m going to be staying at my Uncle’s. Well, not my actual uncle, but basically. Actually…” Marinette trails off and searches the room for Alfred’s eye, “you know him, Monsieur Pennyworth, or, shall I call you, _Uncle Alfie_?”

Alfred’s eyes widen comically. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I called you Uncle Alfie, Jagged is really excited to get to see you again.” Marinette beams at the man, and she’s pretty sure she saw Dick squint his eyes.

Alfred takes a deep breath and stands to walk over to take Marinette’s hand. “Are you telling me that my honorary nephew Jared is actually Jagged Stone the Rockstar?”

Marinette nods, still smiling. “He’ll be here tonight if you wish to see him tomorrow,” she murmurs.

Alfred pauses, then a slow smile spread across his face. “Yes, I think it’s time to see what that crazy young boy has become.”

Marinette laughs, and then turns back to her dessert. Alfred makes some really good bread pudding.

```flashforward```

As Marinette and Damian help Alfred clean the dishes from dinner, Marinette’s phone rings. She glances at the number and realizes it is an American area code on it.

“Damian?” He hums, and she continues, “is this a Gotham number?” She hands him her phone and his face drains of color slightly.

“That’s Gotham General, one of the main hospitals here.” He’s frowning, and his eyes are dark.

Marinette connects the call. “H-hello?”

A masculine voice comes through the other end. _“Hello, is this a,”_ a pause, _“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”_

“It is.”

_“Miss Dupain-Cheng, my name is Bradley and I am a nurse in the emergency room. We have an Adrien Agreste here and you’re listed as one of his emergency contacts. There’s been an incident. Would you…”_

Marinette doesn’t hear his voice anymore, Marinette doesn’t hear anything anymore. _I think I dropped the phone? Or did I drop?_ She tries using her senses and she feels warm and strong arms around her waist.

_Ah, so I did drop, excellent._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the love on the last few fluff chapters! We're heading straight toward the nitty-gritty of our next little story arc! 
> 
> Feel free to ask questions! I try my best to respond to all the comments and I'll try to answer anything without giving too much away!
> 
> I am so incredibly thankful for this fandom and a Ao3! 
> 
> -Roarking :)))


	11. Gotham General (Damian POV/Marinette POV/Adrien POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian is supporting. Marinette is breaking. Adrien is hurting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: emotional/verbal/mental abuse
> 
> "oof"-Roarking
> 
> *Marinette and Adrien's conversation is in French!! Marinette still assumes Damian doesn't know French!!* 
> 
> **Damian is also a notorious eavesdropper.**

Damian wasn’t really sure what he’s supposed to do in this situation. Marinette’s knees gave out in the middle of her phone call and he caught her on instinct.

Now, though, Alfred is driving Marinette and him to Gotham General to check on Agreste.

The one good thing in this situation of unknowns is Marinette drawing comfort from holding his hand.

_She is gripping it rather tightly, though. Much tighter than I would think possible. Perhaps she works out?_

Damian glances over to Marinette. She’s staring out the window and chewing on the inside of her cheek. Her eyebrows are furrowed so tightly, there’s a little wrinkle in between them. It’s taking a lot of his willpower not to smooth the wrinkle away with his thumb.

_Wait, that’s what boyfriends do. I haven’t even asked her out on a date. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?_ Damian internally groans. _Not now, though. Later._

They pull up to the hospital and Marinette all but sprints to the doors. Damian and Alfred exchange glances before Damian jumps out to follow.

“Agreste! Adrien Agreste! I got a call from a Bradley! Where is he?” Damian hears Marinette first, then spots her as he rounds the corner. She’s practically vibrating with nerves. The poor nurse at the check in station is trying to look for Agreste’s room number. Damian strides over and lightly rests his hand on her shoulder. She flinches and stares up at him, worry obvious in her bluebell eyes.

“It’s okay, Angel. Just give them a minute, okay?” He smiles a little at her. Her eyes widen slightly, and she opens her mouth, then snaps it closed. Marinette nods and turns back to the nurse at the desk.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I was called about my friend, Adrien Agreste. Could you help me, please?” She speaks between gritted teeth. 

The nurse nods toward the seating area, nonverbally asking them to wait. Marinette huffs, but walks over to sit. She crosses her legs, foot shaking fast. She uncrosses and crosses her legs several times; she’s wound so tight one wrong thing will cause her to snap.

Damian just sits beside her, offering his silent support to the best of his ability. Which isn’t saying much, but Marinette seems to appreciate the gesture.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng?” a bored sounding voice calls from behind them. Marinette whips her head around so fast her hair is a midnight colored blur.

“Yes? I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She holds her hand out for the doctor to shake. He ignores her hand in favor of looking her up and down with a raised eyebrow.

“I am Dr. Iida, I am the primary doctor for Mister Agreste. Would you and your fr- oh! Mister Wayne, sir! Are you here for Mister Agreste as well?” He immediately offers his hand for Damian to shake. Damian does not take the man’s hand to shake, only giving him a cursory look over, then directs his attention to his Angel.

“Marinette? Do you have any questions for this,” he pauses and flicks his eyes over to the doctor, who is now a shade or two paler than before, “doctor?”

Marinette rolls her shoulders back and lifts her chin the slightest bit before speaking. “Yes, Damian. I do have a few questions for this doctor. Would said doctor like to answer my questions, or do I need to request one who will?” Marinette’s usual sweet voice has taken an icy quality, and Damian would be lying if he claimed he wasn’t affected by the change in tone. _Later_ , his inner voice chides, _not. the. time._

Dr. Iida swallows thickly before nodding at Marinette. “Of course, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I would be most happy to answer all your questions to the best of my ability.”

“Good. First, what was his condition upon arrival? Has there been any improvement from said condition? What measures are you and your team making in order to keep the press away from this situation? If the Gotham Police need to be involved, have they been contacted? If they have been, what steps are they taking? I wish to see my friend, is he in a stable enough condition to accept visitors?” Marinette questions the sorry excuse for a doctor rapid fire. The doctor blinks a couple of times before bumbling over his answers.

“He was unconscious upon his arrival, with two fractured ribs and several bruises to his torso. We ran a toxicology report on him and we found high amounts of LSD and Oxycodone. His liver is also in poor shape, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Are you aware of Mister Agreste’s alcohol abuse?”

It is Marinette’s turn to pale, however, there is a green tinge to her skin that immediately has Damian on edge. _Is she going to be sick?_

“To further answer your remaining questions, he has not yet woken up and is currently in a private room. The GPD have been contacted and I believe they are in the process of apprehending the man who assaulted your friend. He is stable enough for you to come sit with him, if you so wish.” The doctor seems to actually be capable of doing his job.

“I would, please. Has his remaining family been contacted?” Marinette asks as they make their way to Agreste’s room. 

The doctor shakes his head before speaking, "we could not find any numbers under 'Agreste', Miss Dupain-Cheng."

Damian is keeping his eyes open and is scanning the halls to make sure there are no press in the building that could cause this to blow out of proportion. He is so focused on checking the perimeter, he startles when Marinette slips her cold hand into his, seeking comfort and support.

Damian willingly gives it.

As they make their way up a few floors and toward Agreste’s room, Marinette is so quiet. She is clearly in her own world, Damian isn’t even sure she’s aware that her fingers are entwined with his own.

When the elevator doors open, one of the first things to register is the yelling. The very loud, very _French_ yelling coming from down the hallway.

**_“Cataclysm! Cataclysm! Cataclysm! Where is Princess? Cataclysm! Dammit! Give me my Princess! I’ll claw your eyes out! I know you’re working for them! You want my ring!”_ **

****

Marinette stiffens so much beside Damian, he is sure one tap on the shoulder would send her shattering into a million pieces. Then, she takes off, running down the hall with Damian dragging behind.

****

As the yelling gets louder, Marinette’s grip on Damian’s hand gets tighter. Her knuckles are bleached, they’re so white. Suddenly, Marinette stops and lets Damian’s hand go. His skin almost burns at the loss of contact, so he flexes his fingers to push the sensation aside.

****

“Would you mind waiting out here for a moment? When Adrien is like this, it can get kind of…” She grimaces and looks up at him. Her big blue eyes pleading with him.

****

_Am I really already bending to this small woman’s will?_

_Yes. Yes, I am._

“Of course, Angel. I’ll be right outside if you need any help, okay?”

She smiles at him, it is so small he almost misses it. She turns and grabs the door handle, then pauses.

“Marinette? Are you okay?” Damian askes. Marinette shakes her head, then abruptly turns and flings her arms around neck, her face buried into his shoulder. Damian hesitates just for a moment before wrapping his arms around her small frame. She takes a shuddering breath, pulls back and stares at his chest.

“He’s going to hate me for this…” she murmurs softly, “but I can’t handle this anymore.” She then removes herself from his arms are walks into Agreste’s room.

**_“Hello, Chaton…”_ **

****

\---~~~---

“Princess! Oh, I am so glad you’re okay! You gave Adrien and me quite a fright last night!” ~~Chat~~ Adrien says from the hospital bed. His wrists are bound to the railings. Marinette grimaces before continuing.

“Chaton, could I speak with Adrien?” she moves to stand closer to the bed, after making sure the door isn’t fully closed.

~~Chat~~ Adrien frowns at her, “what do you want with that doormat? He couldn’t protect you, Princess! Adrien isn’t a hero! I’m a hero! I’m _your_ hero!” he looks up at her, focusing on her neck, specifically, the bruises surrounding her throat. He emits a sound that is similar to a low growl. “I will cataclysm whoever did that to you, Princess.”

Marinette sits in the chair beside the bed and takes one of ~~Chat’s~~ Adrien’s hands in hers, “I need to talk to Adrien, it is really important.” She stares at his face, a perfect mask hiding everything underneath. His face twists in pain, like he's struggling with himself, before evening out.

“No can do, Princess. Adrien isn’t here right now.” He smirks at her and squeezes her fingers for a second. “But, you can tell me what’s wrong and I’ll make it better, alright? I’m your Chaton, Princess. I’ll always make it better.”

Marinette hears a scoff from outside the door, and ~~Chat~~ Adrien whips his head to face the door. He turns back to face Marinette with his eyes narrowed. “You brought a _friend_? Oh, Princess, I thought Adrien was your only friend? Don’t tell me you’re cheating on him,” he tuts.

Marinette can only blink at him. “I can have friends, _Adrien_. I’m friends with Max and Kim and Luka and-” she gets cut off by a loud, humorless laugh.

“Snake boy _left_ you, Princess. He ran away from you after Adrien and I had a little talk with him. He hasn’t talked to you in three years. What kind of friend does that?” The way **Adrien** is smiling at her causes something to snap. She can no longer treat him like a victim if this is how he’s going to act.

“You threatened Luka, Adrien?” She asks in a low voice. Marinette knows the reason why they broke up-he was offered a permanent position to open for Jagged on his world tour; currently in its second encore. They ended things well and still talk a few times a month while he’s busy traveling and doing what he loves to do. If Adrien thinks he scared him off…

Adrien curls his upper lip in what she assumes in a way to show off his fangs, if he had any right then. “He didn’t deserve you, Princess. We made sure he knew that.”

Marinette drops his hand and stands up, taking a few steps backward.

“Princess?” Adrien frowns at her, beginning to struggle with his restraints again.

“Adrien,” she starts but Adrien tries to lunge at her, snarling something about his name, but all Marinette can hear are the kwamis inside her.

They are yelling, not at her, but at Adrien; causing her insides to practically vibrate at the force.

All the voices both inside her head and out are overwhelming her, so she just yells, “Shut up!!”

There’s silence. Marinette looks at Adrien, really looks at him. His cheeks are somewhat sunken in, and the dark circles under his eyes are almost black. His blond hair is dull, and his green eyes are even duller. He hasn’t been eating with her around, and she stupidly believed he was eating when he was alone.

And, now she knows of his drug and alcohol abuse. Adrien, her once dearest friend and partner, needs help. Professional help and a support system that Marinette can’t provide on her own.

“I’m so sorry, Adrien…” Marinette whispers as tears gather in her eyes, “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you like you wanted me to.”

Adrien is screaming at her, cursing her as she pulls her phone out and dials Kagami’s number. It rings and rings until it goes to voicemail.

“Kagami. I’m so sorry for calling you this late, or early, I guess. I need help. I need help, getting Adrien to accept professional help. I can’t do it anymore, he needs to go home. He needs his aunt and cousin. Kagami, I need you. Please, call me back when you get the chance.” She hangs up and stares at Adrien’s fuming form. His face is so red, it’s practically purple.

“Fuck you, Mari.” Ah, so he’s actually Adrien now.

“Adrien, you need help. Please, understand I’m doing this for you. You’re in the hospital! I have a hand print around my throat because the girls you were with last night locked me out! You are not well!”

“It’s not my fault!” He screams back at her, “it’s all Ladybug’s fault!”

Marinette’s entire frame freezes, “what do you mean?” she asks.

“Ladybug was supposed to fix everything! Instead, my mother is dead! Nathalie is AWOL, and my fucking father is in prison! And, now,” he screams, “you’re leaving me, too! You say you’re doing this to help me, but Mari, you’re only ‘helping’ so you can get away from me! Just admit it!”

“No! Adrien, you’re my best friend! I just want you to be well again!” Marinette tries to reason with him, but glares at her. He is fully looking at Marinette and all he does is glare.

“Fuck you, Marinette,” he says again, “and fuck Ladybug, too. If I knew who and where she was, I’d tell her myself.” _You have…_ “Get out. I don’t want to see you.”

Marinette pauses, her tears flowing freely down her face.

“I said get the fuck out! Get out! Get out!” he’s thrashing on the bed, wrists being rubbed raw by the restraints. Marinette scrambles for the door. Just as she is about to open it, Adrien’s voice carries over to her, “and if you call my aunt and cousin, Marinette, I promise I will never forgive you.”

Marinette tries to swallow the huge lump in her throat, but all she does is choke on a sob.

She opens the door and falls right into Damian’s waiting arms.

\---~~~---

Adrien stares at the closed hospital door. His heart is breaking, but he doesn’t know why.

**_Why did you yell at Princess like that?! Princess is my, OUR, friend! You hurt Princess!_ **

****

_Shut up, Chat. Mari is hurting herself. She shouldn’t meddle where she doesn’t need to._

**_But you are weak and growing weaker. Princess is right. You…we need help. I don’t think I should even be here… We are not right like this._ **

****

Adrien moves his eyes over to the ceiling. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to move.

Everything just hurts.

It’s not too long after Marinette leaves the room, does Adrien finally let the tears fall down his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for hurting the babies. 
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support! It means so much to me!!! :))) 
> 
> I'm excited for the next few chapters!!!
> 
> -Roarking :)))


	12. I'm Sorry, but This is Filler (Multi POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was stuck for several days trying to figure out how to get from point A to point C, but I didn't have a point B.
> 
> So, after much thought and starting over and over again on this chapter, I present to you:
> 
> Point B.

Kagami stares up at her bedroom ceiling, cell phone clutched tightly to her chest as she was lost in thought.

Marinette called her really early this morning, close to 3 A.M. and she had sounded so…tired. So utterly drained it heart Kagami’s heart to hear.

Not to mention the screaming and yelling of Adrien in the background. He has gotten so much worse, deteriorating before everyone’s eyes, pushing his remaining family and friends away, leaving only Marinette.

Kagami grinds her teeth. Adrien didn’t want _her_ help, only Marinette’s. And now, she’s drowning in her work and in making sure Adrien doesn’t fall off the deep end.

She takes a deep breath and looks around her room. Pictures of their friends line her walls and vanity. Her bed side table shows a photo of Kagami and her boyfriend.

Her boyfriend who needs to help. Kagami sits up and hits his contact, listening to it ring.

_“Kags, darling? Are you alright?”_

She smiles softly at the concern in his voice, so different from when everyone first met him.

“Feli-kun, I am afraid your cousin is worse than we thought and Mari-hime is struggling. She has requested our assistance.” Kagami listens to the silence she is met with on the other end of the line, hoping he knows what do to for his cousin. She hears him take a deep breath before speaking softly.

_“I’ll be by your place later this morning, we shall make a course of action. Please, get in contact with Marinette and ask for as many details as possible. We cannot come into this situation blind, darling.”_

“Of course. I will see you soon. Stay safe, Feli-kun.” She pauses, then softly adding, “I love you.”

She can hear the small smile in his voice when he replies, _“And I, you, darling.”_

The line goes dead, and Kagami moves to email Marinette, asking for details that lead up to her needing to placing a call for help, requesting her and Adrien’s current location, promising that help will be there soon.

\---~~~---

The Joker paces back and forth in his cell at Arkham Asylum, pushing his fingers through his greasy green hair, laughing occasionally in disbelief.

“I’m telling you, ‘Row. That dumb-wannbe-cat- _bitch_ was going to kill me. She’s a fucking meta with this crazy power to turn things into dust. She was so fucking annoying! She made me forget about my new toy!”

“A new toy, eh? Do tell,” Scarecrow’s gravelly voice echoes in the darkened cells.

“Oh, yes! Pretty little thing with the brightest blue eyes, now-I don’t usually go for dark haired beauties, I prefer blondes… but this toy, ‘Row…” The Joker begins to laugh, quickly losing control as he did so. “I think I picked a new Wayne as my next play thing!” He starts jumping up and down, clapping his hands excitedly. “She had _training_ , she put up quite the fight. Who else is paranoid enough to train their offspring?”

“Wayne…” The name comes out like a growl between Scarecrow’s lips.

“Exactly! She ran across rooftops! She jumped down off a balcony! I cannot wait to break her…” He begins to laugh before sobering, “but that damned meta… she didn’t even speak English! I can’t even tell you if she was a new player in _our_ game or in the Bats’. Perhaps she can be your next test subject, eh, ‘Row? See how a meta with the power of destruction handles your fear toxin? I bet it would be beautiful. Metas always have some deep-seated trauma, just waiting to be provoked. Ooooooohhhhh,” he started clapping again, and anyone can hear the unbridled joy in his voice, “imagine me breaking in my new toy and you testing on that fucking Meta! Oh! Playdate in heaven!”

Scarecrow is silent, contemplating all this information the Joker freely gives. He has always been talkative, much to Scarecrow’s dismay. And that stupid nickname, if Scarecrow wasn’t so worried about the repercussions of dosing _him_ with the fear toxin, he would’ve a long time ago.

But, this information he talks about. A new potential player in the game? A foreign one at that? Not used to the way things work in the _fair_ city? Quite interesting. Scarecrow is practically itching to get back to his lab, vibrating in anticipation for his underlings to hurry up and spring him from this place. The “therapies” offered only seem to drive Scarecrow toward his experiments, wanting and needing to find the perfect toxin to render _anyone_ immobile and helpless and drive them to an insanity that could rival the damned clown.

_Ah,_ he muses, _the clown finally gave up on that harlot, Harley. And now, a possible Wayne as his new toy? What better way to knock ole Brucie around a time or two than by breaking his newly revealed daughter. I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on her, either; if the Joker is to be trusted on his intel._

Yes, this could be quite the new development for everyone. The rogues, the Bats, the Waynes… Scarecrow can almost taste the discordance he and his fellow players are going to cause.

All he has to do is get out of this damned Asylum, get back to his lab, and find a damned Meta.

Easy.

\---~~~---

Jason grits his teeth as he lets loose another round of bullets into the moving targets in his personalized training room down in the Batcave. All non-lethal spots are highlighted in the targets, he refuses to even practice that kind of targeting anymore.

He is a changed man.

A better man.

He will not kill.

_Even if they deser-_

He will not kill.

_Even if it’s a fucking clow-_

He will not kill.

_Even if he’s protec-_

He. Will. Not. Kill.

Jason sags against the wall behind him, head in his heads as a groan shudders out of his throat.

She’s moving to Gotham. Marinette is actually staying here, not going home. Staying. Becoming the Joker’s next target. Unwittingly subjecting herself to the psychological torture that is being a Joker victim.

The Joker won’t stop until he gets what he wants. He won’t stop just because he is in Arkham. They always manage to escape, always. No matter what kind of security the city provides to get those crazy motherfuckers _in_ , they always find a way _out_.

Maybe he can go by her place as Red Hood, offer some sort of deal? Or, an explanation as to why staying in Gotham is a fucking terrible idea.

Yea, a vigilante coming by, explaining the reasoning as to why being chosen for the Joker’s games is _not_ something that should be taken lightly, and she should get the hell outta dodge while she still can.

He just hopes Demon Spawn can forgive him for scaring away the one female that ever caught his interest so intensely.

\---~~~---

Jagged Stone takes a deep breath through the nose as he enters his Gotham penthouse. It has been too long since he and Penny have been home. He smiles to himself and squeezes his wife’s hand.

“Welcome home, love,” he murmurs, a lovesick grin on his face. He leans forward to capture her lips when someone from inside the home clears their throat.

Jagged and Penny both stiffen, and turn their eyes to a young man, roughly Marinette’s age in their hallway.

“Who the hell are you, mate? It’s not really rockin’ to be tresspassin’! Fang!” the crocodile perks up in attention, tongue lolling out on one side. The young man is quick to react, hands up in front, palms exposed in a peaceful manner.

“My deepest apologies, Mister and Misses Stone-Rolling. My name is Damian Wayne, I was just leaving after making sure Ang- I mean, Marinette made it safely into bed.” The poor boy is blushing so much, it is almost comical.

“Ah! My Nettie-girl! Is she already asleep? Are you her boyfriend? Are you a _potential_ boyfriend? Do I need to give you the shovel talk in place of Nettie’s dad? I can do it, y’know. I can give a rockin’ shovel talk. _And_ ,” he starts smugly, “I have a crocodile that can back up my threats.” Jagged squats down, starting to pet the lazy crocodile’s tummy.

“I, uh, well, um…” the Damian fellow trails off, looking to the side uncomfortably before squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin in pride. “Yes, Marinette is already asleep, she has had an eventful twenty-four hours. We are not together in the romantic sense, however; I am very interested in Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I am honored that she considers me a friend, let alone a potential romantic partner.” His deep green eyes bore into Jagged, their resolve making Jagged laugh.

“Rockin’ my boy!” Jagged laughs as Damian jumps.

Penny clears her throat, “Jag, he said his name is Damian _Wayne_. This is one of the young men your Uncle Alfie takes care of now.” She says pointedly, eyeing Damian up and down, no doubt making her assessment of Marinette’s potential boyfriend as well.

Jagged gasps loudly, “you’re one of Alfie’s?” He almost whispers the words, like speaking loudly as he usually does would be too much in this delicate situation.

“Yes, sir. I have known Alfred Pennyworth since I was a ten-year-old child, after moving to Gotham to start to live with my father for the first time.” He has a small and fond smile on his face that makes Jagged want to remember the early days with Alfred, too.

“I can’t wait to see him, again,” Jagged breathes out, eyes glazing over as he is bombarded with memories from the past. “Did Alfie like my Nettie-girl?” He asks Damian, hope shining in his eyes.

Damian’s lip tilt into an incredibly soft smile, “sir, my entire family has fallen under your Nettie-girl’s spell during one dinner. And, again, I must emphasize, that I am incredibly honored she considers me worthy of her friendship.” He nods his head at both Jagged and Penny, bidding them goodnight.

After a moment of thought, both Jagged and Penny speak at the same time.

“I approve.”


	13. Before the Transfer (Damian POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waiting to take Adrien to London from some serious help. A little bit of a filler chapter... sorry!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back. Back again.
> 
> SO SORRY ABOUT FALLING OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH!!!
> 
> I hit a mental block and really could not do anything productive other than binge read romance novels. 
> 
> BUT I AM BACK and WILL BE UPDATING MY WORKS BI-WEEKLY!!!!!! 
> 
> Your comments and kudos kept me going and I seriously want to thank you all. 
> 
> -Roarking :)))))

**_Four Days Later at Gotham General_ **

****

Damian watches in what can only be called fascination as an Agreste doppleganger strolls forward and stands in front of his not-girlfriend and gives her a tight hug. It is the strangest thing seeing what Marinette tells him is Agreste’s _cousin_ and not twin brother. He’ll have to get Drake to do some background work on the Agreste and Graham de Vanily family trees. Something isn’t right there.

Damian stands a few paces back to watch over his Angel and make sure, with his family connections, everything goes smoothly for getting Agreste out of Gotham and into the custody of his cousin. Marinette was adamant about making sure the incredibly toxic man got the properly help he desperately needs. It warms his heart slightly that she has the capability to care so deeply, but in the same breath, is disconcerting that she seems to harbor no self-preservation.

The Not-Agreste peers over the top of Marinette’s head and makes eye contact with Damian and, Damian swears, his eyes narrow slightly as he assesses him. Damian dips his chin in acknowledgement and the Not-Agreste’s nostrils flare and focuses his attention back onto Marinette and murmurs something to her, so low that Damian can’t hear. Marinette stiffens slightly and turns her head just enough to peer at Damian from the corner of her eye, then focuses her attention back onto the Not-Agreste. She begins to shake her head vehemently and takes a small step backward. Damian instinctively takes a step toward her, trying to discern if the Not-Agreste is a danger to his Angel.

Marinette lifts her chin and says in a steady voice, “Damian has been nothing but kind to me and has been a pillar of support for me. We should talk more before you offer your opinions, Felix. I truly appreciate your concern, but Damian is not a threat to me. Relax, please? Let’s just get Adrien the help he needs.”

Damian pauses and blinks a few times at her statement. _Not-Agreste thinks I am a threat to my Angel?_ Damian scoffs at the thought, he could never harm her. Never harm the one woman who has made his heart feel so intensely.

They had been “hanging out” for every afternoon and early evening at the Stone-Rolling apartment. After Marinette had gotten confirmation from her friend and Not-Agreste that they were coming to bring Agreste to London for a psych evaluation with Not-Agreste’s personal entourage of medical professionals, Damian was able to semi-distract Marinette from the stress of taking care of a mentally unstable and toxic friend by looking at store front and apartment combinations with her. And if the ones she found more favorable ended up being owned by the Wayne family anonymously…well… who is going to tell her?

Damian rolled back his shoulders and walked to stand behind Marinette, placing a gentle hand onto the small of her back and offering a polite, if tight, smile to Not-Agreste. “Damian,” he says, offering his hand to the man, “it is a pleasure to meet one of Marinette’s friends from back home.”

Not-Agreste looks down at his offered hand, flicks a glance to his Angel who nods subtly, and with a sigh, accepts his hand to shake. “Felix Graham de Vanily, and it is also a pleasure to meet one of Marinette’s new _friends_.” He places a strange inflection onto the word ‘friend’ and looks, not at Damian, but at Marinette. His poor Angel’s face is turning an interesting shade of pink.

Marinette clears her throat and makes an effort to look behind Not-Agreste. _Perhaps I should call him Graham de Vanily? He is Marinette’s friend…_ Not-Agreste looks behind him as well and his features soften somewhat as a woman walks up to the trio.

Marinette is practically vibrating in place before taking off toward the woman and throws her arms around her in a bone crushing hug. Her shoulders shake with the force of the swell of emotions surging out of her. It makes Damian’s heart clench watching the scene. He glances away, swallowing thickly.

“Marinette is the kindest person I have ever known, _Wayne_ ,” Not-Agreste states, saying his name like it is coated in venom. “She forgives easily and devotes a lot of time, effort and energy into those she considers friends and family. She and my,” he grimaces slightly, “cousin have a very complex relationship, friendship, partnership or whatever else they could possibly be. She doesn’t need another Adrien; and while Adrien was once sunshine incarnate, he imploded into himself, and with that implosion, nearly consumed Marinette right alongside him. I happen to know some people who have warned me that you are an Ice Prince, Wayne,” Not-Agreste pauses, side eyeing Damian with such scrutiny, “Marinette’s tank is almost empty in terms of love and friendship. This whole mess with Adrien and every other responsibility, and every other thing from her past, has practically ruined her. I won’t have you freezing out what little warmth Marinette has left.” He ends his speech with a ticking jaw and a hardness in his gaze. It is admirable, that he cares so much about Marinette. However...

Damian stares in astonishment at Not-Agreste. Apparently, Damian’s old persona from school-age days made it to London? Damian clears his throat and turns to face _Graham de Vanily_. “The man that is here supporting Marinette is not the same boy that was too angry at the world to care beyond what happens to solely himself. I appreciate you looking out for her best interests, I have a sinking suspicion that she does not have as many friendships as she should have, correct?” Damian raises an eyebrow at Graham de Vanily, who purses his lips but nods. “I truly care for Marinette, more than I wish to admit to you or anyone else just yet. However, I will gladly take any form of friendship that is offered to me by Marinette, even though I am already aware how unworthy I am of her affections, no matter how inconsequential. All I want from her, truly, is to see her become happy. No one should house that much darkness in their eyes.” Damian holds eye contact with Graham de Vanily, showcasing just how serious he is about wanting to provide Marinette any semblance of happiness.

“Damian! I want you to meet my best friend, Kagami Tsurugi.” Marinette says, arms linked with her friend as they make their way over to where he and Graham de Vanily are standing. Damian bows respectfully and watches as Tsurguri extracts herself from his Angel’s hold and moves to slide her body against Graham de Vanily. “How long have you been together now?” Marinette asks with a little twinkle in her eye.

“Almost two years now, Mari-hime.” Tsurguri murmurs softly, a small smile on her lips. Graham de Vanily smiles down at the woman by his side before flicking his gaze back to Damian.

Damian nearly jumps, then practically melts into himself as Marinette slips her hand into his, entwining their fingers together. Her small and nimble fingers squeezing ever so slightly, drawing strength from him. Damian has to resist the urge to puff out his chest in pride.

Over the past few days, Marinette has gotten somewhat bolder in the expression of physical affection, whether it is a simple shoulder bump in solidarity over something silly, or like now, taking his hand in her’s publicly. They’ve even shared a few hugs and cheek kisses.

Damian really needs Agreste out of his Angel's hair so he can finally ask her out on a proper date, like Grayson always says he needs to do. He does not want to come off as insensitive, because he’s not. He just really wants Agreste gone from Gotham. Away from his Angel. He sets Damian on edge, but he can’t place anything specific. The more time Damian and Marinette spend at the hospital, the twitchier Damian seems to feel.

Both Graham de Vanily and Tsurguri eye Marinette’s hand in his, but say nothing. He relieved they refrain, Damian is slightly worried that pointing out the affection will cause it to decline, and, well…

_I rather like holding her hand. Her warmth spreads to me easily, then._


End file.
